


The Hobby

by lipah



Series: Gods and Monsters [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, But the resolution is in the next part I'm working on now, By a minor character, Canon-Typical Violence, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolves, Kind of Cliffhanger ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mythology - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Some Romance, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is OP, Suicide Attempt, Violence, kinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 50,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipah/pseuds/lipah
Summary: Stiles looks into who attacked Peter. In doing so, everything spirals out of control, the pack splinters, and Stiles becomes something else entirely.(I swear/hope it's better than this summary)Series length: 150k+





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles stood in the middle of the loft, smiling stupidly for just a moment before he turned and followed after Derek. He took the stairs this time, not willing to risk getting stuck in the elevator when there was an emergency. He channelled his magic as he ran, letting it settle in his feet so that he moved faster. He was climbing into his Jeep moments later when his phone went off. He grabbed it, pressed it to his ear, and started his car. “Hey.”

 

“Mr Stilinski,” Deaton said, “I need you to come to—”

 

“Hale Compound, on my way” he interrupted, his Jeep's wheels squealing as he turned out of the parking lot too quickly. Deaton hummed in his ear, and the hung up his phone. Stiles tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, unconcerned about it, for now. A few minutes later, Stiles was pulling up to the main house, and getting out of his Jeep.

 

“Quickly now,” Deaton said, from where he was waiting by the front door. Stiles followed him inside, ducking past other pack members into the living room. Peter was stretched out on the couch; he was in his beta form and his shirt torn open. There was thick black blood oozing from Peter's chest, dripping down his side, staining his clothing and the couch below him. James was standing over him, looking worried and upset, but unharmed. “Arnica montana poisoning. An arrow shot into his chest, the arrowhead was made of dried flint, it shattered when it hit his ribs. The arrowhead appears to have been full of the plant's seeds. You need to remove them.”

 

Stiles nodded as he listened, grabbing Deaton's black doctor's bag and pulling out a glass jar. Deaton wasn't one to give compliments, and that extended to Stiles and his abilities, but he made a note to tell Stiles how gifted he was with extracting poisons. “I need you to move,” Stiles said softly to James, as he pulled the coffee table closer.

 

“I can help,” James said, but Stiles shook his head at him.

 

“I don't need help for this, I just need to be able to get close to him,” Stiles said, resting a hand on James' arm. Deaton knew that Stiles was letting warm calming wisps of magic, flow into James, and a second later James nodded his head and moved out of the way. Stiles magic hung close to the surface of his skin, making his body warm, and in some lights, he seemed to glow. His magic stayed there, because Stiles used it as a shield, to keep things out of his body and soul. He did it because something had gotten inside of Stiles mind years before, it was dealt with now, but it still scared Stiles. After it had happened, Stiles had learned everything he could about removing poisons of all kinds from others.

 

Poisons were easy for Stiles, even with his hyperactive nature, he had steady hands. He opened the glass jar and placed it on the table near to him. He dug out a knife next, cut the tips of his fingers, and then placed them carefully around the arrow wound. Then, he let his magic seep from his hand and into Peter's chest. Stiles closed his eyes, picture the golden strands of light, as they wrapped around the seeds of the plant, pulling them one-by-one out of Peter. Stiles used his free hand to gather the seeds and place them into the jar he had opened.

 

Deaton watched Stiles work; he did this faster than anyone Deaton knew. Stiles knew that the chances of him having the right kind of Wolfs Bane, to fix the Arnica Montana poisoning, were slim to none. It wasn't native to their region, and it wasn't as commonly used by hunters. He knew that this was the fastest way to help Peter, even if it was a little more invasive then he might have wanted. But, once he removed these seeds from Peter, he would be able to make an anti-toxin and grow some of the Arnica Montana, to keep them stocked on the anti-toxin if it ever came up again.

 

Stiles pulled the last seed free and knew he was finished when Peter gasped in air and jolted upright on the couch. He shifted back to human form, the wound on his chest closing, and forcing the flint from his body.

 

“How did you do that?” James asked, staring at Stiles from the end of the couch.

 

“Lots of training,” he said and grinned at him. Then he closed the jar and tucked it back away in Deaton's bag.

 

“Was the thing that attacked you a hunter?” Deaton asked, and Peter turned his attention to him.

 

“No, it was something else,” James answered. “It was a super tall person, but... he smelt wrong.”

 

“Like the air after a lightning storm,” Peter said. “But, I knew he was there, long before I smelt him. All the hair on my body stood on end.”

 

“Like walking near a Tesla coil,” James said.

 

“Could you take us to the spot he attacked you?” Deaton asked. Peter agreed, and after a few minutes, the four men were out in the forest. Peter and James shifted as they walked, listening for the rest of the pack, and anyone else that might be there. The spot that Peter was attacked was at the very edge of the Hale Compound, the only way to get there was to go through the compound itself or walk all the way through the preserve.

 

Deaton found a second arrow near a tree, the same broken flint arrowhead, and seeds on the ground. Stiles worked on gathering the seeds before they could settle and take root. He made a note of the location and scribbled on his arm, _check for WB in coming seasons_. Deaton wrapped the arrow in a thick cloth and tucked it into his bag. When they had finished searching the area, Stiles offered to go research what may have attacked them. “I can go back to the office and start looking through books,” Stiles said. “Electrical giant.”

 

“Wait until the morning,” Deaton said, “but, I'd like you to go home, rest and get there early to start your research.” Stiles frowned at Deaton, sighed, but then nodded his head. He supposed being tired, wouldn't help anyone, but he thought he could do more now. Even still, in a rare instance of obedience, Stiles did what he was told and headed home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a short chapter, sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek arrived at the Stilinski house early the next morning, after getting a text from Stiles that said _“Breakfast?”_ and then a moment later, _“I mean, will you bring me some?”_ Derek had laughed, and agreed. He wondered if this was going to be the norm for Stiles. Derek knocked on the door, and after a few minutes John answered, smiled at him, and waved him inside.

“Upstairs, making a mess of things,” John said. Derek found Stiles sitting on his bedroom floor, surrounded by books and scrolls. Stiles looked up at him and made grabby hands in his direction until Derek handing him the bagel and coffee he had brought with him.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, stuffing the bagel into his mouth and looking back at the book he was reading.

“Find anything?” Derek asked, grabbing his desk chair and sitting down. There was a moment, where Derek thought he should feel more awkward about this. They didn't really know each other yet, but it was so easy to just slip into place next to Stiles.

“Not really,” Stiles answered. “Some things on large birds, and dogs. But, I asked Peter this morning and he said it didn't feel like a shifter at all.”

“You're already talked to Peter today?” Derek asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Not a morning person, is he?” Stiles asked, looking back down at the book.

“It's his turn to sleep in,” Derek answered softly and then laughed.

“Oops,” Stiles said, but he didn't actually sound upset about it. “But there are more books at the office that I want to look at.”

“I could take you over,” Derek offered.

“I'd like that,” Stiles answered, closing his book. “I've finished all of these anyway, I was just rereading them to see if I've missed anything.” Derek drove them to the vet's office and promised to take Stiles home again before he set off to work on his apartment plans. No one was at the office yet, so Stiles let them in the back and headed into Deaton's office. “I'll need to find a new office space once Deaton retires,” Stiles said, locking the door behind himself.

“What's happening to this place?” Derek asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the office.

“Scott's taking it over, but I figure it'd be nice to get out of his fur. Besides, he wants this to be a real vet's office 100% of the time, not just on weekdays,” Stiles answered. “I'm sure we'll keep emergency supplies here for quick first aid. But, the hospital is always better stocked, so it just seems silly sometimes. Even the Compound is probably better stocked than this place.” They had gone into Deaton's office now, Stiles was pulling books off the shelves, and flipping through them quickly. Part of Derek didn't even believe that Stiles was taking in information, and he might have just been showing off. But, part way through one of the books, Stiles paused, and then tossed the book onto one of the chairs.

“Pile for later?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, and then glanced back at Derek.

“You know, I'm going to be at this for a while, you could take off if you wanted,” Stiles said.

“And leave you without a ride?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Stiles laughed a little, dug into his pocket, and held up a pen.

“I can always write for a ride,” Stiles said. “Can't ignore me if I scribble all over you.” Derek smiled back at him, a warm feeling rushing through his chest as he did.

“Okay, I'll get to work, but let me know if you find anything,” Derek said.

“Of course,” Stiles answered, and turned back to the bookshelf. Derek hesitated for a second and then headed out of the office to the back door. As he was about to leave, there was a thump of Stiles dropping a book, and then scrambling down the hallway after him. “Wait!” Stiles said, skidding to a halt behind him. Then Stiles grabbed him, yanked him in for a kiss, and then mumbled, “see you later.” Before turning around and heading back to the office. Derek shook his head, left the office, and grinned all the way back to the loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is even shorter. I'm so sorry. I just keep hitting weird ends.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles didn't even realise how long he had been at the office until Scott came in. “Morning,” he said, through a yawn.

“What are you doing here so early?” Stiles asked, looking up from the book he was flipping through.

“It's 10, dude,” Scott answered. Stiles dug out his phone and checked, having trouble believing it had already been three hours since he had gotten there. His phone showed 9:57 AM, with three missed text messages. Stiles checked them quickly, one from Lydia, and two from his dad.

 _'I haven't felt anything.'_ Lydia responded to a text he had sent to see if anyone was going to die.

 _'Have a good dya.'_ from his father, followed by _'I mean day.'_

Stiles stuffed his phone back into his pocket and returned to reading a book. It was an hour later, that Scott grabbed his attention again. “Umm, there's someone here that wants to see you,” Scott said slowly. Stiles stared at him for a minute, blinked a few times, and then followed Scott to the front. In the waiting room was a tall slender, gorgeous blonde man. The man turned as Stiles came to the front, and the smile dropped from his face.

“You wanted to see me?” Stiles asked, but the man said nothing for a moment. Then he seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was having, and smiled again.

“I'm sorry, you aren't what I was expecting,” he answered. His voice wrapped around Stiles and made his chest ache. His voice was strong, warm, and full of life. Stiles thought it sounded musical. “I'm looking for the emissary of the Hale pack. I thought they'd be older.”

“Oh,” Stiles answered, and then looked back at Scott who just shrugged. “I'm Stiles, and technically not the official Emissary until next year, but I do everything with the current one.”

“So there are two of you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Stiles said and frowned at him now. “What is it you need…?” Stiles left a pause at the end of his sentence, to let the man know he wanted his name.

“Ah, yes, I'm sorry,” the man said and walked up to the counter. He held his hand out to Stiles, and after a second Stiles took his hand. “I'm Talbot, and I'm here looking for werewolves.”

“Well, you've found some,” Stiles said. “Why are you looking for them?” he asked. Talbot tightened his grip on Stiles' hand, yanking him forward slightly. Stiles felt a rush of warmth brush against his palm, almost like he had his hand held against any open flame. Stiles pulled back, and then let the man's hand drop unceremoniously to the counter top.

“I had been hoping to deal with a more understanding Emissary,” Talbot answered, his smile slipping again. “I'd like to meet your boss,” he added after a moment. His smile became something else, dark and sinister, it made the warmth of his voice sound fake and off-putting.

“Well, I can call him and see,” Scott said from the side. Stiles shot him and angry glare, but Scott didn't notice, already on the phone. He knew Scott could feel the tension that was building around them and figured it didn't want them to have to deal with it alone.

“Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?” Stiles asked, turning back to the man. Talbot hummed and then shook his head.

“I need to be going really,” he said, as he grabbed one of the office's cards from the counter. “I just need a pen.” Stiles handed him one, and let him write down his phone number, before handing the pen and card to Stiles. “Get him to call me, and I'll set something up.” Then he was gone out of the front door like he hadn't been there at all.

“No answer,” Scott said, sticking his head back into the room.

“What did he smell like?” Stiles asked, looking down at the small neat writing on the card.

“That guy?” Scott asked, and then sniffed the air. “Good, mostly. Kinda like a warm spring day, but there is something strange about his scent. Not human, for sure.” Stiles grabbed his own phone and sent off a text message to Deaton.

 _'Office, now. I think I found the guy that attacked Peter.'_ He wrote and hit send. Then he messaged Talia as well, even though he wasn't sure that he should be. Deaton hadn't told him the protocol for dealing with the Alpha yet. Deaton and Talia arrived at the office half an hour later, both looking unimpressed with being summoned. Stiles explained what had happened, and then handed Deaton the card. “He wants to set up a date,” Stiles said.

“Very well,” Deaton answered.

“How can you be so sure he was the attacker?” Talia asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can't really, but… Look, I just know he's involved, okay? How many crazy people show up after something bad's happened, that aren't somehow involved,” Stiles said, trying to make it sound reasonable. Talia smiled a little and nodded her head. Deaton stepped out of the room, dialled the number, and spoke to who Stiles assumed was the man. Stiles strained to hear the conversation, but Talia tutted at him and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said and sat down to wait for Deaton to come back.

“You're very strong, Stiles,” Talia said.

“Um, thank you?” Stiles answered. He smiled at her but drew his eyebrows together in confusion. Talia smiled back at him, and then looked toward the doorway. Deaton came back into the room and placed his phone on his desk.

“He is looking to meet with me,” Deaton said, facing Talia. “I will meet him at the diner down the street, and see what he'd like to talk about.”

“When are we leaving?” Stiles asked, but Deaton ignored him.

“He says he has a proposition for the pack,” Deaton added.

“Should I have one of the wolves go with you?” Talia asked, but Deaton shook his head.

“I'll be fine,” he answered.

“Don't you mean, we'll be fine?” Stiles asked. Deaton looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“No, Mr Stilinski, I will be fine,” Deaton answered. “I'd like you to go back to the compound with Alpha Hale, and I'll update her later.”

“You're just going to meet this dude alone? How is that a good idea?” Stiles snapped.

“Deaton has been doing this for a long time,” Talia said and got to her feet.

“Since when is—”

“Stiles,” Deaton said sternly, “your job is to protect the pack and the Alpha. Go to the compound. Protect your Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : |


	4. Chapter 4

Derek was surprised when he sent Stiles a message, asking how he was doing, only to get one back that said, _'I've been sent to your parent's house'_. Derek went back home, to find Stiles back out in the forest checking the area Peter had been attacked. “Mom said you're frustrated,” Derek said, as he walked up to Stiles. Derek sat down and leaned back against a tree, watching as Stiles picked through the plants.

“I kind of thought that Deaton would start treating me a little differently,” Stiles answered. He had decided to go out and look for any more seeds, to distract himself from what was going on. After a few minutes of silence, he turned and looked back at Derek. The other man was watching him, with a small smile on his face. “Nothing to say?” Stiles said, “or just looking at my ass?” Derek laughed a little, and then shrugged in response.

“I mean, you do—have a nice… anyway,” Derek answered. Stiles smiled and decided to settled down next to Derek, carefully resting his head against Derek's shoulder. They sat in silence then, listening to the wind rush through the trees, and the sounds of the animals in the forest. Derek was struck again, by how right it felt to have Stiles next to him. He hoped that feeling stayed with them, he hoped that they fit together as well as his parents did. He grabbed Stiles hand and twisted their fingers together. “It'll probably take a while, for Deaton to start letting you do more,” Derek finally said.

“I suppose that's fair,” he answered. Derek thought he didn't sound convinced of his own statement, but couldn't find it in himself to say anything else. Instead, they sat in silence together until they were called back to the house. Deaton sat at the kitchen table, looking more relaxed than Derek had ever seen. He had his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, his elbows on the table, and his body leaning toward Talia.

“He's very kind,” Deaton said, then he turned to look at them. “Come, sit Stiles. I'd like to dispel your worries about Talbot.” Stiles pulled his eyebrows together, nodded his head, and took a seat between Talia and Deaton. Talia waved her hand at Derek, and after a momentary pause, he left the room. He found his way into the backyard, where Peter was sitting on the ground, letting Emily climb up his back.

“Do you think I'll be a big wolf, like Auntie?” she asked.

“I'm sure you will, Pupkin,” he answered. “Hello, nephew,” Peter added, as Emily managed to her one of her feet on his shoulder.

“Derek! Daddy says I'm gonna be a big wolf!” she shouted, and waved one hand excitedly.

“I heard,” Derek answered. Emily hadn't shown any signs of being a wolf at all yet, but they would either come soon, or she would be human. Derek watched Peter climb to his feet, Emily shrieking with delight, as she tumbled back and clung to his shoulders.

“Looking for company?” Peter asked. “Cora and Malia will be here soon to take care of Emily. You could help them.”

“Just needed some air,” Derek answered. Peter bounced Emily, making her laugh again, and swing her feet. Peter jogged around the edges of the yard, Emily holding tight around his neck, her feet bouncing against his back as he went. He tumbled to the ground part way around the yard, groaning dramatically.

“You're too heavy now!” he said, as Emily crawled over him.

“Daddy that's not true! You're a werewolf!” she snapped. She sounded more irritated than anything else. Derek took a seat in one of the lawn chairs, part of him wanted to listen to the conversation in the kitchen, but he changed his mind. He smiled a little and watched as they played in the yard. He wasn't sure how long it was before Malia came bounding into the yard transformed into a Coyote.

She knocked Emily to the ground and nipped carefully at her shirt. “Mali! No!” Emily shouted, and smacked at Malia. But, her older sister just nuzzled her nose against Emily's side, making the little girl howl with laughter.

“You'll get used to it,” Peter said, suddenly standing next to him. Derek looked up at him and frowned. “The feeling of Stiles being around. The pull of his writing.” Peter waved his hand around, like that somehow made more sense to Derek.

“I don't understand,” Derek said.

“That's fine,” Peter said and patted Derek's shoulder.

“Thanks, Peter,” Derek muttered.

“Peter,” Stiles said, saluting Peter as he came out of the house.

“Stiles,” Peter said in return and nodded as he headed into the house.

“How was the chat?” Derek asked.

“Long,” Stiles answered. “Deaton is convinced that Talbot is fine. Your mother agrees with him. So, we're gonna leave him alone.”

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Derek asked, gesturing to the forest beyond the yard. Stiles glanced over at Malia and Emily, tumbling over each other, and then nodded.

“Yeah, let's do that,” Stiles answered. He and Derek walked in silence until they were far enough away from the compound.

“You don't sound convinced by their decision,” Derek said.

“I just got a weird feeling from the guy,” Stiles answered. “I know I don't have a super sniffer like you guys, but I am loaded with magical goodness.”

“Isn't Deaton?”

“He's differently magical. Like… well. When you start learning—like with school—you learn the basics of everything. Then, you find the thing you're really good at, or you enjoy most and go with that. Once you've got the basics down like; simple alchemy, summoning, and some spell casting. You're a Mage. Then, you start to specialise. Deaton studied to become a Druid, which is super normal, it's the jack of all trades, master of none type. But, he seems to like the information side more than the actual practice of magic. So he's really like a paranormal _'druid'_. He's got all that supernatural knowledge in his head, with a general knowledge of druid abilities.

But, he can't cast anything too big. He told me that, while he is gifted, he has to work hard at it. And Druids work better in groups, anyway. So, him being alone, doesn't make for strong magic. And, he never went to the next level either. When people become Druids they tend to work their way toward learning how to be a soothsayer as well. Even general knowledge of the future would be super helpful all the time,” Stiles rambled, waving his hands around as he talked. Derek watched him out of the corner of his eye, as they trekked further into the preserve.

“What about you?” Derek asked as Stiles paused to climb over a fallen tree.

“What about me?”

“What did you specialise in?”

“Everything,” Stiles answered, and then he huffed out a laugh. “I started with healing magic. It's an important one to have when most of your friends turn into furry monsters and ran around all night. It made the most sense to me to focus my efforts on that, but it came easily. I think Deaton thinks it came too easily for me, but he's never said anything. I want to be able to do anything, Deaton told me that I could become a magus. Which is just a mage on steroids, I guess.”

“You struck me as the type who wants to know everything,” Derek said.

“Lydia says that she's never heard of a class of mage like me,” Stiles answered, and then laughed again. “Which, I'll take as a compliment. What about you Derek?”

“What about me?” he said, grinning as Stiles shook his head.

“What do you like to do in your spare time? Besides, renovate apartment buildings?”

“Reading, and spending time with the pack,” Derek answered.

“Really? That's it?”

“I like working out,” he added and then grunted a little like he couldn't think of anything else.

“Ugh, of course, you like to work out. What kind of a freak likes working out?”

“The one you're stuck with,” Derek said, and then felt his face warm up. Stiles grinned at him and then grabbed his hand.

“Cheesy,” he said, as he laced their fingers together. “But it works for me.”

“That's good because I can't promise it won't happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - I did mean "Pupkin" not "Pumpkin". Like pumpkin, but for werewolf children. Peter dropped the m. Look. I'm not even sure, okay?
> 
> 2 - Everything has gotten away from me. The story is so much bigger than I planned originally.
> 
> 3 - I blame everyone but myself.


	5. Chapter 5

It was two weeks later while Stiles was fighting to keep his dying Spanish moss alive, that he saw Talbot again. “You're giving it too much sun,” he said. Stiles turned, looked up at the man from when he was crouching, and frowned.

“I know how to take care of my plants,” Stiles snapped.

“And you should move it away from the wall,” he added. “It'll help.”

“Why are you in my greenhouse?” Stiles asked after a moment.

“I was visiting Deaton,” he answered. “I thought I'd see you too.” Stiles turned back to the moss, misted it over carefully, and then tossed the bottle into a plastic bucket near him. He slowly rose to his feet, turning as he did so he was standing face to face with Talbot.

“Well, it's been nice to see you, you can go on now,” Stiles said.

“Look, I'm not going to be in town long, and I'd like us to be friends,” Talbot said.

“I don't need any more friends,” Stiles answered. “What are you even doing in town? You've found the werewolves you were looking for.”

“I'm a collector,” Talbot answered. “I'm looking for rare, or uncommon artefacts. Supernatural folk always have those kinds of things around.”

“Talia would be the one you need to speak with,” Stiles answered. “Not me.”

“Oh, you sell yourself too short, Stiles, I can tell by the way Deaton talks about you, that you're something special.” Stiles opened his mouth answer when the greenhouse door slammed open, and Erika stepped inside.

“I'm hungry, I'm horny, Boyd is working, and my period is almost a week late!” she shouted, “you'd better be ready to spend the next five hours with me.” She came around one of the stands full of herbs and raised an eyebrow at Talbot.

“Oh my god, Erika,” Stiles said. Talbot looked shocked for a second before he muttered something, pushed passed the female wolf, and was gone out the door.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Talbot,” Stiles answered. “I think he's who shot Peter,” he added.

“And, you two are… friends?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” Stiles answered. “He wants something from us. I don't know what it is, and Deaton doesn't seem to think he's a threat.”

“Deaton's not usually wrong,” Erika said.

“I can't believe you yelled all that while he was in here,” Stiles said, after a few seconds of silence.

“I thought you were alone,” she answered. “I checked.”

“What?”

“I couldn't smell anyone else, and there wasn't a second heartbeat until I saw the guy,” Erika said. “Seriously, I thought you were alone.”

“Smells like a spring day to Scott, and doesn't even exist to you...” Stiles mumbled. Erika took a deep breath in and shook her head.

“The greenhouse makes it impossible to smell anything clearly, but there is a strange smell that I can't place,” she said.

“Great,” Stiles mumbled. “Well, let's go watch movies until Boyd's done work.”

“Are you going to be reading through them?” she asked, linking her arm with his.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Boo,” she said.

“I need to figure out what he is, Erika,” Stiles said.

“He's smoking hot, is what he is,” Erika said, and grinned at him. “You noticed right?”

“Of course, I noticed,” Stiles snapped. “But—heh—have you looked at my soulmates ass lately? It's a gift from the gods, Erika. A literal gift to mankind, I don't know what I did to deserve it, but it's mine.” Erika snorted out a laugh and nodded her head vigorously.

“You're right, Derek does have the nicest butt I've ever seen,” she said, pulling away from him, and getting in the jeep. Stiles drove the two of them back to his house, and once they were inside and settled in front of the television with Netflix on, he pulled open an old bestiary. Erika put on the first episode of Stranger Things, even though they'd all seen it already. “So, how far have you and Derek gone?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” Stiles answered, and laughed. “We've been too busy.”

“You're kidding right?”

“I haven't even touched his butt yet,” Stiles said, sounding grave and serious. Erika gasped and fell backwards against the couch, knocking the book off Stiles lap. They both started to laugh, at how stupid the whole thing was.

“I can't believe you haven't—haven't even,” Erika tried but failed to form a sentence around her laughter.

“Life's busy! Miss. I-might-be-pregnant!” Stiles said, making Erika slap his arm.

“At least I'm getting some, Stilinski!” she answered. Stiles nodded his head at her and smiled softly. Erika managed to calm herself down, and said, “it'll happen. I'm just teasing.”

“I wasn't worried about it before!” Stiles said, reaching down and grabbing the book off the floor. He looked at the open page in front of him, at a drawn image of an old school European dragon. “He said, he's a collector,” Stiles mumbled.

“So?”

“Maybe he's a dragon,” he said. “They gather things.”

“He wasn't looking for gold, was he?” she asked.

“It says dragons don't just horde gold or gems. As the world progressed so did they, their collections can be anything.”

“So, why would he attack Peter?” Erika asked. “What would he get out of that? Unless he collects dead werewolves. Which, ew, psycho.” Stiles froze suddenly, remembering something he had overheard his father talking about.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, scrambling off the couch. “Oh my god, maybe he does!”

“Does what?” Erika asked, chasing after him. Stiles ran into his father's home office and dug through the mess of paperwork on his desk. Finally, he found a pad of paper, with a list of names.

“What if he's collecting supernatural creatures from ancient lines?” he asked.

“What?”

“My dad got a call about it from Alpha Yazzie, one of their's was killed a few months back. The hands, teeth and a good amount of the blood was taken. One of Alpha Ayotte's swarm was killed as well. Same things were taken. There have been a bunch of killings like this, with parts of the body taken, from all different kinds of creatures,” Stiles rambled.

“You think Talbot is a serial killer? Roaming across North America killing supernatural creatures?” Erika asked, both eyebrows raised. Stiles stared at her for a moment, and then sighed, dropping the paper back on his dad's desk.

“It sounds stupid,” he said.

“Kind of, really stupid,” Erika answered. “And Deaton doesn't think he's a threat,” she added.

“Deaton's wrong,” Stiles answered firmly. Erika just nodded her head at him and then gestured back to the living room.

“Let's go watch TV and relax, okay?” she said slowly. Stiles groaned, he hated that tone of voice, but after a minute he nodded and followed her back. He read over the entry for Dragons, over and over as Erika cheered through the show. When Boyd showed up hours later, to pick her up, Stiles felt stupid and angry with himself. “Just try and get a proper nights rest, and then maybe talk to Deaton in the morning,” she said, pulling her jacket on.

“Of course,” he said, and hugged her goodbye. She waved and pulled the door closed behind her. Leaving Stiles standing in the entry way, mad at himself, and unsure what to do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, things are slowly down with me. I have been preparing for Nanowrimo (I'm gonna be doing an original story), so this one is probably gonna be on hold for a little while. Sorry!


	6. Chapter 6

Derek held a pen in one hand, staring down at his arm where Stiles had written, 'dinner?' Derek spun the pen around in his hand, starting and stopping without ever making a mark on his skin. He wanted so badly to write his answer back to Stiles, but it made his chest ache whenever he tried. Scared that no answer would ever come back to him. He finally tossed the pen onto his desk, his heart pounding in his chest, and grabbed his cellphone.

'I was thinking maybe fettuccine and some garlic bread. Kick back watch some TV in my room.'

'Lame. You're a loser, have dinner with me instead.'

'Where do you want to go?'

'My place? I can cook.'

'Can you?'

'Rude! Be here at 6. Gonna show you how well I can cook. ;)'

'That's only an hour from now, is that enough time?'

'How long does it take you to make a meal?'

'See you then.' Derek decided to send, instead of answering him properly. He clutched his phone and grinned down at the screen for a minute. It didn't have too long to spend at the house, but he could waste a few minutes picking out his clothes for the night before he went to shower.

Derek showered, and changed into better clothing before he headed downstairs to see what his family was doing. He tossed his leather jacket on a chair by the front door, his keys and wallet tucked into his pocket for a quick escape from his families questions. He found his mother in the kitchen, Deaton and Talbot sitting at the table with her. Derek was torn when it came to Talbot. He had met the man a few times now, and Derek found his easy grin and boisterous laughter infectious. He had offered to help Derek with construction work on his building and seemed to have slipped easily into the family. But, Stiles dislike of him was so intense. Derek wondered idly if Stiles hated Talbot because their personalities were so similar.

But, at the same time, Derek remembered how the rest of the pack talked about Stiles. He's smart, a good person to be around, he's so caring. “I love him like he's my brother,” Scott, Erika, and Lydia had all told him. His mother had even spoken so highly of him. So, when Stiles frowned at Talbot and seemed to see something else there. Derek believed him. Derek looked back down at his phone.

'Talbot's here.' Derek sent Stiles, as he stepped into the kitchen.

'Gross.' Stiles answered. 'Hit him'.

'Yeah, that's something I'm going to do.' Derek fired back, and then tucked his phone into his pants pocket and rolled his eyes.

“Evening Derek,” Talbot said, seeing him first. “You look nice.”

“Date?” his mother asked, without looking at him.

“Date,” he repeated. “Thank you, Talbot.”

“Ah, the elusive Mr Stilinski,” Talbot said, making Talia and Deaton laugh softly.

“He'll come around,” Deaton said. “He's nervous because of an incident in high school.” Derek frowned at Deaton, unsure that he agreed with the man sharing Stiles private life with Talbot.

“You started telling me about that before,” Talbot said, turning his attention to Deaton. Talbot reached out, putting his hand on Deaton's shoulder. Deaton paused for a moment and then nodded his head. His eyes seemed to light up for a moment like he was about to talk about something he found particularity funny.

“In the middle of his—”

“Isn't that kind of personal information?” Derek asked, suddenly. Deaton turned to look at Talbot.

“I'm sorry?” Deaton said, looking confused.

“Derek, it's rude to interrupt,” his mother scolded. She turned to look at him, and for a second her eyes looked foggy and glassed over, then they were clear and bright like always. Derek tilted his head to the side and wondered if there had been a difference at all.

“Just friends sharing,” Talbot said, turning his attention to Derek. He adjusted his fingers, like he was trying to crack his knuckles, and then reached out for Derek's hand. Derek's heart started to race as soon as Talbot's eyes landed on his face, and blood rushed through his eyes silencing the room around him. Everything moved very slowly for a minute, as Derek watched Talbot's hand move toward him. Then, in a moment that Derek could only explain as pure panic, he swung out and punch Talbot. His fist collided with the side of the man's face, sending him tumbling from his chair to the ground. Derek didn't move, frozen with his fist out, and his mouth partly opened in surprise.

“Derek!” Talia shouted as Deaton scrambled from his chair to help Talbot off the ground. “What is the matter with you?”

“I don't know!” Derek answered, stepping backwards and cradling his fist against his chest.

“Werewolf reflexes,” Talbot said and shook his head. “I'm fine! I'm fine! I guess I startled you.” Talbot's hair was out of place now, and there was blood running out of his mouth. Derek stared at him, wondering if he had managed to break some of his teeth.

“I'm so sorry, I don't know why that happened,” Derek said. He couldn't help but feel like it was someone Stiles fault he reacted that way. The feelings transferring between them maybe.

“No hard feelings,” Talbot said and held his hand out toward Derek.

“Sorry,” Derek said again and shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to actually shake Talbot's hand.

“Derek,” his mother snapped. “This is ridiculous.”

“You're telling me,” Derek mumbled.

“Just shake his hand,” she snapped. Her voice harsh, and her alpha voice. The one that made his body lurch forward, that made him want to reach out and grab Talbot's hand. Just to please her. He looked at Talbot's face again, where his cheek looked red and swollen, but he was still smiling. Mouth quirked to the side, in a crooked grin, blood staining his lips dark red.

“Oh Alpha, I'm sorry,” Derek said and twisted away from them. He darted from the room, grabbed his jacket, and stumbled over his own feet as he ran down the front steps. This wasn't what he had been thinking when he thought he would need a quick get away earlier. He was in his car, with the doors closed and locked before he looked back at the house. Talbot had followed him outside and was standing on the front porch. Derek's chest tightened, looking at the man, who seemed less human than he ever had before that moment.

He seemed to tower over Derek, making him feel tiny in his little metal box, with the world crashing down around him. Talbot licked the blood away from his lips and grinned widely at Derek. His teeth were still red from blood, making him looking like a mad man. Derek shifted the car into drive and spun around on the road. Part of him couldn't help but feel like he had just chosen sides, in a fight he didn't even know he was part of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Soulmates is a lame name for this AU, since while it's a thing, it's really not the most important part of this AU. Anyone have other name ideas?
> 
> So, I ended up taking November for Nanowrimo (unrelated story) and December for not writing anything at all because I was a little burnt out. But, I'm back for now. =)
> 
> I stopped watching Teen Wolf when Derek left, but I can't let them go. I love them guys. I just love them.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles opened the door at 5:48, to a panicked Derek. He was dressed for their date but looked like he had just been running for his life. Stiles grabbed his arm, pulled him inside, closed and locked the door behind him. “What happened?” Stiles asked as he checked Derek over for any kind of injuries.

“I punched Talbot,” he said, as he gasped.

“Oh my god! I didn't actually want you to punch him!” Stiles said sharply. Derek stared at him for a second, and then remembered Stiles text message, and let out a panicked sounding laugh.

“I forgot you sent that,” Derek answered. His cell phone went off in his pocket, but he ignored it and silenced it with one hand.

“What did he do?” Stiles asked, reaching out and placing his hand on Derek's arm. It was similar to what Talbot had done, but this made Derek's heart slow down, and helped him calm down.

“He tried to touch my arm or something, I don't know. I panicked and punched him. It seemed like I had to, in the moment,” Derek answered. He put his hand over Stiles', and then intertwined their fingers, feeling even calmer then. “He wanted Deaton to tell him about something that happened to you in High School,” Derek said, suddenly remembering.

“About me?”

“He's so interested in you,” Derek answered. He suddenly remembered more things, from other days Talbot had been around. He remembered the small questions about Stiles, while they ate, or even when he offered to help with the construction. The prying that hadn't seemed like anything at the time now seemed sinister, and concerning. “I think he's scared of you,” Derek said.

“Scared of me?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows scrunched together and raised as high as they could. Then a beeper was going off in the kitchen, and Stiles was yanking Derek toward it. “Dinner,” he said, more like he had forgotten about it, then was telling Derek. Stiles had made fettuccine Alfredo, with chicken and garlic bread. “I had everything for it,” he said, as he spooned the food onto plates for them. Derek's phone rang again, he silenced it again without looking at it. Stiles put the food out on the table and glanced around. There were a few items still scattered around the kitchen, Derek thought Stiles probably planned on throwing them in the dishwasher before he showed up.

“Thank you,” Derek said, but he wasn't sure he was even hungry now. The two of them sat on opposite sides of the table, looking down at the food, but neither one of them ate any of it. There was a strange heaviness that was hanging in the air. Derek's phone rang again, and this time Stiles smiled a little at him.

“Maybe it's important,” he said.

“I'm pretty sure they are calling to yell at me,” he answered, but pulled his phone out. There were text messages and missed called, from the moment he had stumbled out of his parent's house to now. They were from his mother, Peter, Laura, and different members of the pack.

“What me to answer it?” Stiles said. Derek laughed and shook his head.

“I don't know how that would help,” he said, but he smiled back at Stiles. It eased some of the tension, making the room feel less stifling.

“What are they saying?”

“Mostly that they can't believe I punch someone. A family friend even. Laura even called him a future pack member,” Derek said.

“Awesome,” Stiles muttered and frowned.

“He suddenly felt wrong,” Derek said. “I was scared of him.”

“He's a threat,” Stiles mumbled. “I just don't know how yet.”

“He's changing people,” Derek said. “My mother's eyes were wrong, and when he touched Deaton, Deaton's eyes changed too.”

“Changed?”

“Like something inside of him shifted. He's so open with Talbot, I've known Deaton my whole life, and he's never been open to anyone.” Derek's phone rang again, 'Dad' appeared on the screen, both Stiles and Derek saw it.

“I don't mind if you answer,” Stiles said. So Derek nodded and took the call. He hoped that his father would be reasonable, that he would be able to calmly explain everything to him.

“Hey,” he said, getting to his feet and walking into the living room.

“Derek,” his mother's voice came back, he wanted to kick himself for answering.

“Mom,” he mumbled. A second later he felt Stiles hand against his back, but he didn't turn to look at him. Just listened to the sound of his mother's breathing on the other side of the phone.

“I don't understand what's going on Derek,” she finally said, her voice higher in pitch than it normally was. He could picture her pinched expression, looking tired and upset. “I don't know why you're acting that way, or why Stiles is acting the way he is. But the two of you need to talk about what is going on and sort it out. Talbot is not only a friend to our pack but to many other packs. He's been helping Deaton with Peter's attack, currently, he might as well be part of our pack. I don't know if Stiles is jealous, and you are sympathising with him. But, this is unreasonable Derek.”

“Mom...” he said again, but she just shushed him.

“No. Talk about it. When you come home, you'd better have it sorted out,” she snapped, and then she hung up the phone. Derek kept the phone to his ear, staring at a spot on the carpet, wishing very much that he hadn't gone into the kitchen that evening. Stiles stepped forward, his arms slipped around Derek's waist, and he pressed his forehead in between Derek's shoulder blades.

“I'm sorry. You… You can spend the night,” Stiles said slowly. “I don't think Dad'll mind. I can explain what's going on. I could make you a bed on the couch, o-or you could sleep in my bed, with or without me. Either is fine.”

“Thank you,” Derek answered, lowering the phone from his ear.

“Let's go finish eating. Then, we'll figure out what to do next, okay?” Stiles said. Derek agreed and they ate in silence. Stiles watched the way Derek pushed his food around, taking small bites of here and there but looking dissatisfied. Stiles looked down at his own plate, he had barely eaten anything either, and his food was cold now. He hadn't been able to hear what Talia was saying on the phone, but he had felt the way Derek's body had tensed at her words. He wondered how much of this was his fault.  
John arrived home an hour later, to find both men still sitting at the table, with cold mostly uneaten food. Derek's phone sat in the middle of the table, screen alternating between lighting up, and dimming before it happened again. The number of unanswered and angry text messages growing. “Did someone die?” he asked as he walked into the room.

“You're home early,” Stiles said, getting out of his chair.

“I'm just grabbing dinner, I took another shift. I won't be home tonight,” he said. “Derek,” he said, and nodded at the man.

“Sheriff,” he said, and nodded back. Stiles grabbed a container from the refrigerator, that he had put away earlier, shoved it into his dad's hands, and tried to make him turn around. John moved three steps before, planting his feet, and frowning at Stiles.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“Talbot...” Stiles said, and John groaned.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Stiles answered. “Well, I might have made Derek overly worried about him.”

“What did you make Derek do?”

“What?!” Stiles snapped, but then covered his face with his hand.

“He didn't make me do anything, I've just reacted bad. A little pack trouble,” Derek said from the table. He was still sitting down, awkwardly shifting his gaze from his plate to John.

“Do I need to get involved?” John asked.

“Oh my god, Dad, no. We're adults. We'll figure it out,” Stiles said.

“I'm just worried that—”

“Dad!” Stiles snapped. John looked at Stiles for a long minute before he sighed and nodded his head.

“Fine, I'll leave it to you. But, I'm going to talk to Talia. I won't mention anything, I'm just going to check in,” John said. Stiles seemed to deflate a little and nodded his head at him. John grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and then started for the front door again.

“Uhm, Dad?” Stiles called, glancing back at Derek and then hurrying into the other room. “Derek might spend the night, just in case you get home and one of us is asleep on the couch or whatever. He doesn't have anything in his apartment yet, and with… all this...”

“Just be safe,” John said, making Stiles sputter for a second.

“Not like that!” he shouted as the door closed in front of him. Stiles stared at the door, his dad's voice still in his head, _“What did you make Derek do?”_ said so calmly, like John had been waiting for it to happen. Stiles didn't know what he could do, to make Derek feel better, or to smooth things over with the pack. It hadn't bothered him when they thought he was being unreasonable, but with Derek, it felt different.

“Sorry,” Derek said, from the doorway behind him. Once the house had settled into an off-putting silence.

“What?” Stiles asked, turning around.

“Didn't eat your food, made things awkward,” Derek answered.

“It's fine,” Stile said. “I'm just trying to figure out how to fix it.”

“The pack is pretty mad,” Derek said, holding up his phone. It beeped again in his hand, and Stiles scrunched his face.

“Gimme that,” Stiles said and took the phone from Derek. He silenced the phone and tossed it into a bowl by the front door where his dad normally left his keys.

“That's not going to help,” Derek said and watched as Stiles did the same with his own phone.

“In case they start yelling at me too,” Stiles said and grinned. “I'll clean up, then we can watch a movie or something.” Derek followed Stiles back to the kitchen, and after Stiles finished washing out a pot, Derek took it and dried it for him. Stiles pointed to different cupboards so Derek could put things away. When they finished they went to the living room and sat next to each other on the couch. There was a moment of silence as Stiles fumbled with the remote, and turned on the television and the Netflix.

Stiles scrolled through Netflix, unable to focus on anything that was passing by, he paused at each category and scrolled through it. Only to suddenly realise that he was at the start again, and move onto the next category. Derek didn't seem to notice it either when Stiles glanced at Derek, he was looking at the door. Stiles looked over and watched as a blue light from Derek's phone blinked from the bowl. It sent slow flashes up the side of the wall, reminding Derek of the notifications he was ignoring.

“I don't know why I punched him,” Derek said, once the quiet of the room was too much for him.

“You said you needed to,” Stiles answered.

“I can't tell if I'm being...”

“Paranoid?” Stiles asked. Derek turned to look at him and then nodded his head. “I know it's not much comfort, Derek, but there is something wrong with Talbot. Even if no one else is seeing it, or being tricked into not seeing it, there is something wrong with him. No one will even ask him what he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“He's not human,” Stiles said, and Derek nodded slowly at him.

“I guess he's not… I hadn't thought about it,” he mumbled.

“No one will tell me why he wants werewolves either. Deaton gets mad when I ask,” Stiles said. “I don't know what he's hiding, but… even if Talbot is scared of me like you said. I'm scared of him. I'm scared for the pack, and I'm scared that there is nothing I can do about it. I'm worried that something is going to happen, and no one will notice until it's too late.” Stiles clenched his hands into fists and stared down at the floor.

Derek shifted suddenly, reached out and grabbed Stiles. Then he kissed him, knocking them both over on the couch. Stiles yelped against Derek's lips, eyes wide, as he panicked for a moment, and then grabbed at Derek's shoulders. Derek kissed him again, and Stiles managed to get his thoughts together and kiss Derek back. He let his eyes close, and let his breathing slow down. For a few minutes, there was nothing else going on, just the hard line of Derek's body against his. Stiles' hands splayed out across Derek's back, arms locked around him.

Then Derek pulled back, arms bracketing Stiles head, staring down at his face. Stiles took a slow breath, and then licked his lips. “I-I'm not saying that I didn't enjoy that, but I'm confused about it,” he mumbled.

“It felt right at the time,” Derek said, and Stiles smile at him a little.

“I think you did the right thing,” Stiles said.

“Well, you didn't seem to upset about kissi—”

“With Talbot, I mean,” Stiles said. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “Even if it was nothing, you felt unsafe, and you protected yourself. You did the right thing.” Derek lowered himself down carefully on top of Stiles, pressing his nose into the crook of Stiles' neck, and taking a deep breath.

“You're strange,” he mumbled against Stiles' neck.

“I've been told,” Stiles answered, and then laughed. They lay in silence then, Stiles running his fingers through Derek's hair, while he stared up at the ceiling. He felt Derek's breathing slowly over time and realised he must be falling asleep there. Stiles didn't mind and didn't move until Derek jolted suddenly, and groaned.

“I can't believe how tired I am.”

“We can call it a night,” Stiles said, even though he didn't want to.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“I could stay here?”

“Of course, I can make you a bed on the couch. I have a few things to do anyway, it will be easier for you to sleep without me making noise around you,” Stiles rambled.

“Thank you,” Derek said, as he climbed off of Stiles. Stiles got some blankets and a pillow and then yanked the living room curtains closed.

“I'll be upstairs if you need me, okay?” he said. Derek nodded, then gave Stiles another quick kiss. Stiles smiled, grabbed both phones from the door, and went upstairs. Stiles closed his bedroom door and hoped that Derek hadn't noticed that he had taken his phone too. He put Derek's phone on his desk and plugged it in to charge. He watched the screen for a second, hoping that Derek would sleep and forget about his phone for now. Then he unlocked his own phone and looked at the messages he had.

 _'What the hell happened?'_ Erica had sent him, along with two more messages of question marks.

 _'Get Derek to call me right now.'_ Laura had sent him, 20 minutes earlier. He glanced at his bedroom door, and then back at the phone. He took a deep breath, spun his hand around in front of him, making a golden light race along the walls. There was a soft whoosh as the magic rushed around him, and then his room was silent. It would be easier for Derek to sleep if Stiles was silent. He pressed Laura's name, and then pressed it to his ear and waited.

“This better be Derek,” she snapped.

“Nope, Derek's sleeping,” Stiles said, as he dropped down onto the edge of his bed.

“Sleeping? It's barely even—No, that's not important, wake him up!”

“So you can yell at him?”

“So I can ask him what the hell happened!”

“He felt threatened and reacted,” Stiles answered.

“Threatened by Talbot,” she said flatly.

“So, it might be my fault,” Stiles said. “I whine about Talbot a lot. I think I might have influenced his mind… not on purpose, but my magic and my mouth tend to run wild, whether I like it or not. I'm gonna look into it, I'm sitting down to it now, take away any accidental enchantments. I've done those before, remember the time that—”

“Yes!” Laura snapped, and then she sighed heavily. “Yes, I remember all of them. Talbot is a good person Stiles, I don't know why you think he isn't, but he is. You need to see that.”

“We all think differently,” Stiles said. “I've always been off.”

“Get him to call me in the morning. I'll let him sleep on it, but I have to talk to him about it,” Laura said sternly.

“I'm sure he'll call you,” Stiles said.

“You need to be more careful with you magic Stiles, if you seriously want to be out emissary, you need to be smarter with it,” she said. Her voice sounded cold, and it made his stomach turn. He closed his eyes then and mumbled under his breath. The spell wrapped around him, and then he could see Laura in his mind, standing in the middle of her living room. Talbot was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were glazed over, and her movements looked stiff and uncomfortable. He moved through the room, walking around the two of them, invisible to them, but able to see everything around them.

“I'll be more careful,” he answered, trying to memorise everything about her at that moment. For a minute, no one said anything, Stiles busy walking around them. Then, as he passed by Talbot, the man turned, reached out and grabbed Stiles. He yanked away and turned to look at Talbot, who was smiling at him. The man's eyes flashed blue, almost like the betas did, but it was the wrong colour.

“Tomorrow, Stiles,” Laura said, and then hung up the phone. There was another second, where Stiles was there in the room with them, staring terrified at Talbot.

“Tomorrow, Stiles,” Talbot echoed. Then snapped his eyes open, and was alone in his room again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, rereading my writing and shit. I'm sure there are errors, but I decided it's really lame of me to just post it without checking.


	8. Chapter 8

Derek managed to doze on the couch, unable to get really comfortable. He had pulled off his button up shirt and pants, tossed them onto the recliner, and then settled on the couch. He was too tall for it and had to curl awkwardly on his side to get all of himself onto the couch. He woke up again when a car raced by the front of the house. It's lights flashed through a break in the blinds and filled the room for a moment. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to see if he could hear Stiles, but the house was silent. A strange feeling crawled into his chest, a small panic at being unable to hear Stiles at all. Not even the soft breathing that came when someone slept. 

He looked over at the television, at the cable box sitting on the shelf next to it. 1:32 AM, was displayed in electric blue numbers. He looked back up at the ceiling, and after a few more minutes, he got to his feet. He walked quickly to the stairs, and after a moment of hesitation, he climbed them to Stiles room. He could see light coming from under the door, but no matter how close he got, there was no noise. He reached out and knocked on the door. He waited for another minute before he reached up again to knock again. Before his fist connected again, the door was pulled open, and the house was suddenly filled with a rush of sound.

The sound exploded from the room, with a physical force, making Derek stumble back slightly. There was music playing from inside, loud enough that it would be disturbing in the day. Stiles had pink and green smudges on his cheek, and his hair was stuck out in strange directions. “Derek,” he said looking surprised. “Nice boxers,” he added. Derek glanced down, he had forgotten he had taken his pants off, leaving him in a t-shirt and his boxer, but then looked back at Stiles.

“I was worried,” he said.

“Why?”

“It was so quiet,” he answered.

“Oh, oh!” Stiles said, “I cast a silencing spell, I didn't want to wake you up.” 

“I couldn't hear you, so I couldn't sleep.” 

“Sorry, I didn't think about it,” he said, “I normally do it to make sure my dad gets enough sleep.” 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked.

“Just reading,” he answered.

“The pink and green?” he asked, pointing at Stiles' cheek. 

“What? Oh! A spell for blocking my mind for others,” he answered. “You can come in if you want.” Stiles stumbled back, over a mess of books and papers, and reached for his computer. He turned off the music, making the room momentarily sting with silence. 

“Are you worried about you mind?” 

“Well, yes, but… mostly yours, actually,” Stiles said. “I'm worried I've influenced you by accident.”

“Because I punched him?” he asked.

“Yes.” 

“You're worried that you might have influenced my mind?” he asked. “Instead of me, just seeing him for what he is?” 

“I want to make sure,” Stiles said. “I have… this.” He held out a jar, with an orange liquid sparkling inside. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Just a… well.” Stiles thought for a minute, trying to find the words to explain what it was. “It will run through you, and check to see if you've been magically altered or influenced.” 

“I just have to drink it?” he asked. 

“Only if you want,” he said. Derek took the jar from him, and after a second, he drank it. It was bitter for a second, and then it made him physically cringe. 

“That's awful,” he said. 

“I think it tastes like Buckley's cold medicine,” he said. 

“It's awful,” Derek repeated, but the taste didn't linger. 

“Give me one of your hands,” Stiles said. Derek offered Stiles his left hand, and Stiles' took it in his own hands. He checked around Derek's nails, and then flipped his hand over and examined the lines on his palm. “You look fine,” he said after a few minutes. 

“I'm glad,” Derek answered, and then yawned. He used his other hand to cover his mouth and then shook his head a little. 

“You should go back to sleep,” he said. 

“You should go to sleep,” Derek said. Stiles smiled softly and nodded his head.

“You're right,” he said, and then hesitated before he said. “Wanna sleep up here? You'd probably be more comfortable in a bed.” 

“I think that's a good idea,” Derek said. Stiles let go of his hand and then turned around to look at his bed. It was covered in jars, bags, and books. Derek helped him gather the jars and bags of ingredients, and return them to a box on Stiles desk. Derek turned to look at the mess that was still on the bed, then grabbed the edge of the blanket, and yanked it off the bed. It sent books tumbling to the floor, with a mess of thumping. “There,” he said. 

Stiles laughed and then said, “some of those are older than America.” 

“We can check them in the morning,” he said, as he climbed onto the bed. Stiles yanked off his shirt, and the t-shirt under it, then he pushed off his pants before he climbed in next to Derek. They were silent for a few minutes, shifting next to each other, trying to find a place that was comfortable. Derek finally huffed out a hard breath, and then grabbed at Stiles and pulled him against his chest. 

“I've wanted to be here for ages,” Stiles mumbled after a second.

“I've wanted it too,” he said, and before either of them really realised it they were asleep. 

Derek woke up to the sound of John getting home in the morning, his voice seemed to fill the lower floor, shocking him awake. Stiles was still sleeping, he was still pressed close to Derek, but had rolled over and wrapped himself in the sheet under the blankets. John was talking to someone else, Derek guessed it was over the phone because it sounded like he was alone. Then, there was a second voice, and Derek jolted up in the bed. Stiles moved now, startled by Derek's movements. “What's going on?” 

“Talbot is downstairs with your dad,” he said. That woke Stiles up, making his scramble from the bed, and out of the room. It took Derek a minute longer to follow, feeling naked and uncomfortable, but not wanting to leave Stiles alone with the man. 

“I'm sure it was a misunderstanding,” Talbot said. 

“You're very understanding,” John said. Derek watched Stiles dart into the kitchen, but he paused long enough to grab his pants and pull them on.

“What's going on?” Stiles asked. 

“Talbot wanted to speak with you two,” John said. “He was waiting outside when I got home.” Stiles made a face at his dad, that Derek was sure meant, “So you just invited him inside?!” 

“I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to sort everything out.” 

“I mind!” Stiles snapped. “Get the fuck out of my house! What the hell? It's 6 in the morning, what kind of person shows up and just waits at someone's fucking house?” Derek was startled by Stiles but didn't stop him from rushing the man out of the kitchen and then the house. He slammed the door behind him and then turned around to look at his dad. 

“Stiles.” 

“What the hell dad?” he snapped.

“I didn't ask him in, he just followed me,” John said. 

“You're the chief of police!” he said. 

“I don't know, Stiles!” John snapped and then ran his hand over his face. “I don't know.”

“You think something's wrong with me,” Stiles said softly. Derek could feel the angry in the room, smothering and painful. 

“No,” John said firmly. “I believe you, Stiles.” 

“What?” Derek and Stiles said at the same time. 

“I wasn't going to let him into the house, but then I shook his hand, and I couldn't stop myself from it. And when I called Talia refused to talk about him. She's never kept things from me about the pack, or the supernatural activity in Beacon Hills, but she's keeping something from me now. It's not like her to do this. She's not this kind of person,” John explained. Stiles relaxed, his shoulders slumping, and he laughed suddenly. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “Thank god.”

“Talia doesn't seem inclined to forgive you,” John said to him. “And if that's the case, stay here until we figure this out.”

“Thank you,” Derek said softly.

“We'll figure it out,” John said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession, guys. 
> 
> I had a plan for this story originally, then realised I had made a really weird mistake with planning, and now I'm trying to fix it. ^^;


	9. Chapter 9

Derek did stay with them, only going back to the Hale house once when no one was home to grab his clothing. Stiles worked with Deaton every day, spending time at the Hale house, and working. No one asked about Derek, and once when he was talking to Laura, it was like she had forgotten who Derek was. Stiles had said Derek's name and Laura had asked who that was before it suddenly clicked in her mind and she huffed. 

“He's being a baby,” she said and then left it at that. Stiles hadn't said anything to Derek, but he could see that Derek was homesick. He wondered if it was worse for him, being so close to his pack, but having so few members acknowledge him. At night Derek curled against Stiles, pressing in close, and breathing in deeply. Stiles held him tightly, trying to ease the guilt in himself, and the feeling of lose in Derek. 

It had almost been two months since Derek had moved into the Stilinski house, and Stiles had invited some of the pack to his house. The younger members of the pack, the ones that were too busy to spend time around Talbot. He hoped it would make Derek feel a little better. The night was coming quickly now, and he had to finish gathering a few things from his greenhouse for Deaton before he could go home. He would never tell anyone, but he had listened to Talbot with his plants. He adjusted his Spanish moss and it was doing better less sun and hanging freely. He sighed, as he cut a chunk from the moss, and tucked it into a jar. 

The door to the greenhouse slammed open, making Stiles jump to his feet. He turned half expecting Erica or Scott to be standing there, but he was alone. He tucked the jar into his bag, zipped it closed, and then squared his shoulders. He rolled his fingers in front of him, making trails of magic wrap around his hand as he walked toward the door. He hadn't realised how late it was, until that moment. The sun had set and was moon was crawling into the sky quickly, the sky was clear tonight, and he knew that he was very alone. 

“Hello?” he called as he reached the doorway. He reached up and placed his hand against the frame, sending magic pulsing through the walls of the greenhouse. 

“You don't need that,” a woman said, stepping into view. “I'm very traditional,” she added.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked sharply. She was a short, curvy woman, with long brown hair tied up in a bun. She looked to be about Stiles age, but he could tell she was years older. She was neatly dressed, with a leather satchel at her side. 

“I'm Gabi,” she answered, and grinned at him. Her teeth glinted in the moonlight, and Stiles took a step back into the greenhouse. “I guess I'm your first vampire then?” she asked. 

“You're not exactly common creatures around here,” Stiles answered. 

“America isn't a good place for vampires,” she said.

“Then why are you here?” 

“Talbot,” she answered, and her smile faded away with the name.

“What about him?” Stiles asked. She stepped toward him and the door to the greenhouse, she dug into her satchel and pulled out a pile of file folders. 

“He's a menace,” she said and held the pile out to him. Stiles watched her but didn't move to take them from her. “Please,” she said urgently. 

“I don't know anything about you,” he said. 

“You don't know anything about anything,” she answered. 

“Okay, that's rude,” he said. “If you're looking for cooperation, you need to be nice.” She huffed and nodded her head. 

“Please, emissary,” she said. “Please help me.” 

“Don't you have a coven you can go to?” he asked.

“No, I don't. I have a stack of folders, a red-eye ticket to Scotland, and a very dead family,” she snapped. She held the files out to him again and took another step toward the greenhouse. Stiles stared at her, feeling that she was much smaller, and much less than he ever expected a vampire to be. “I will throw them to you, I will leave them on the ground here. I just need to know you have them. I can't come in. We really do have to be invited in.” Stiles stepped out of the greenhouse then and walked toward her. 

“What are these?” he asked, as he took the folders from her. 

“Records of the dead,” she answered, letting her arms fall to the side.

“Who's dead?” he asked. 

“Everyone's, anyone's,” she said. Stiles looked at her again, catching a flash of a word on her arm, as she shifted in front of him. He stared down at her arm, he couldn't tell what the word was, but it looked broken and faded. She laughed bitterly, making Stiles look back up at her. “My mate's last note to me,” she told him.

“What happened to your mate?” he asked.

“Talbot,” she answered, holding out her arm to him. Cow or pig? Was written in wide curving writing. “She was asking what I wanted for dinner. Now it's there until her body is so broken down, that it's nothing at all. I've been watching it fade.” 

“I'm so sorry,” Stiles said.

“Me too,” she answered.

“Why are you giving these to me?” 

“Because you're the only one I know who can do anything about him.” 

“Why?”

“Your bloodline,” she answered.

“What?” Stiles asked, looking from her face down at the folders. 

“I can't explain, I don't know enough about it, my friend was getting this information together. I didn't care enough about it. All I know is that Emissary Stilinski is from a very powerful bloodline. My coven was afraid of you, and my mate was in awe of you. They knew you would be able to fix things, but I don't know how.” 

“I'm sorry,” Stiles said again because he didn't know what else to tell her. 

“You need to be careful of Talbot, but you need to be afraid of his sister,” she said. 

“His sister?” Stiles asked.

“She'll arrive soon if she isn't here yet,” Gabi answered and then took a step away from him. “I need to go now. I have to get to my flight. I hope you really can deal with them, Emissary Stilinski.” Stiles clutched the folders against his chest and nodded his head jerkily. His throat felt tight with panic now, and all he could do was watch the vampire disappear across the field and into the trees. 

Erica found him in the greenhouse later, after calling him for almost an hour with no answer. She grabbed the door handle and yanked, but the door didn't open, only thumped against a magical lock. She pounded against the glass door, hard enough, that if it was a normal door, it would have shattered. Stiles scrambled to the door, pulled it open and pulled her inside. “What the hell?” she snapped. “You planned this big surprise for Derek and then you don't even bother showing up? What is going on Stiles, this is really weird, and… and—why do you smell so weird?” 

“I met a vampire,” he answered, as he scanned the field beyond the door. Erica stared at him, her eyebrows drawn together. “Is anyone else with you?”

“No! They're all at your house!” she snapped. “Where you should be!”

“I was reading, I'm sorry, I'll… god, I lost track of time. Is Derek okay?” he asked. 

“Yes, but I can tell he wants you there,” she said. “He's feeling a little abandoned right now.”

“Help me,” he said, pushing passed her and gathering papers, folders, and three bags of plants. He shoved the bags into her arms, tucked the folders and paper under his arm, and then paused at the door. “We're going to run to my Jeep,” he said. 

“My car—”

“My Jeep is warded,” he answered. “We'll get your car later. I promise to explain when we get back to my house, okay? Just trust me for now.” Stiles looked at her and felt a new wave of panic rush over him. His chest filled with terror that she wouldn't believe him, that she would ignore him like Talia and Deaton did. But, instead, Erica nodded her head and tightened her hold on the bags. 

“Well, open the door then,” she said. Stiles laughed softly and his face broke into a large grin. He turned to the door, snapped his head to the side for a second, making the door fly open again.

“Race you,” he said and then he ran. Erica waited for a second, before she grinned, howled, and chased him. Stiles felt the cold night air around him, rushing passed him like he was falling. He remembered the first time he chased the wolves, through the trees. He remembered the first time he set his feet on fire with his magic when he tried to use his magic to run faster. But now, it was second nature, and he raced toward his jeep as fast as any wolf. 

Stiles felt something rush past his head, and then saw the thing hit a tree. It exploded on impact, sending sparks into the air, that faded away a second later. Stiles was sure, that it was only luck, that he wasn't hit. Erica screamed, panicked and pained. They were so close to the Jeep, and he knew he needed to get the files there before he could turn to check on Erica. He ran harder, throwing the files onto the backseat when he reached the vehicle. He turned in time for Erica to slam into his chest, and force the bags against him. “Fuck,” she hissed, as she pulled away from him. A single arrow was through her arm.

“Get in, don't pull the arrow out,” he said. Erica got into the back of the Jeep, on top of the papers, because it was faster. Stiles was in the front seat and pulling away as another arrow hit the side of the jeep. It exploded, in the same way, the one that hit the tree did, Stiles only saw the person shooting at them for a second.

She was standing among the trees, with a bow that was almost her height held at her side. Her hair was the colour of moonlight, her skin was pale, and her eyes glowed. The wind whipped around her, sending her hair into the air around her. He realised there was a man behind her, too tall to be human, hidden in the trees, and also holding a bow. Then Stiles turned down the road, and they were gone from his sight. The Jeep jostled as he drove, making Erica swear behind him. “Is the arrow head broken?” he asked her. 

“No,” she answered. “It went straight through.” 

“Thank god,” he said.

“Can I break the shaft and pull it out?” she asked. 

“No, I don't know if it's hollow too,” he answered, and she grunted. 

“I'm healing around it,” she said bitterly. 

“I'll have to cut it out.”

“Awesome.” 

Boyd was outside waiting for them when they pulled up, concerned but calm as always. Erica climbed out of the backseat and grunted as she went passed him into the house. Stiles handed him the bags of plants, and then gathered the folders and papers. “What happened?” Scott asked when they got inside. 

“I met a vampire, got a lot of paperwork, and then was attacked by Talbot's sister, maybe?” Stiles said. 

“Maybe?” Derek asked.

“Vampire?” Scott said. 

“I didn't think there were any vampires in Beacon Hills,” Lydia said, as she helped Erica out of her jacket and shirt. 

“I would say she wasn't from around her,” Stiles answered. “And, I only saw the woman for a few seconds, but she was... ethereal almost. I don't know who she wanted to shoot, though. Me or Erica.” Stiles took one of the bags from Boyd, after putting the folders down on the living room table. Inside he pulled out a long obsidian dirk, that made Erica cringe. Stiles check the area around the arrow wound, it had almost hit the bone in her upper arm but had luckily missed. It was tucked on the side closest to her body, making it almost look like she had it simply tucked in her armpit. 

He carefully grasped the arrow, and slowly cut through the shaft, cursing when it snapped open revealing that it was hollow. He pulled out a jar of wax and used the contents to seal what he had cut open. Erica watched him work and then said, “I have a feeling pulling it out isn't an option?”

“I could pull it through,” he said, “but there is a chance the wax won't hold, and I'd bet that's wolfsbane in there.”

“So?”

“I need you to lift up your arm,” he said. She grabbed Boyd's hand and then did as Stiles asked. Stiles shifted awkwardly in front of her, checking the placement of the arrow, and then cut through her arm. Blood splashed down the front of her clothing, and across the floor. She shouted but Boyd held her still, as Stiles pulled the arrow free from her arm. As soon as it was out, her arm started stitching itself closed again, and she sighed. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. 

“You're welcome, why don't you guys go out to the living room while I clean this up?” he said. The members of the pack milled around the kitchen and living room, watching Stiles work, but now felt like they were in the way. They all returned to the living room, except for Derek, who got paper towels and started cleaning the blood from the floor. They moved around each other silently until everything was clean, then Stiles grabbed Derek, and yanked him against him. 

“Vampires,” Derek said after a minute. 

“Vampire,” Stiles corrected. “Just one, and she was going to Scotland. She told me Talbot killed her coven.”

“I don't understand how he makes the pack trust him,” Derek said.

“Probably the same way I calm people down,” Stiles said flexing his fingers against Derek's side. 

“Calming and controlling are entirely different things,” Lydia said from the doorway. Stiles turned to look at her, she was holding up a folder and looking unimpressed. “How much have you not told me, Stiles?” 

“I didn't want you to worry,” he said, “and no one else really believed me when I said something was wrong with him.” 

“I'm not everyone else,” Lydia said firmly. “No one in this house right now is. Emissary or not. I would trust you with my life, Stiles. Now, tell us about Talbot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this has gotten away from me.


	10. Chapter 10

Derek woke up on the morning of the full moon, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin, in a way that he hadn't felt in years.  His wolf was so close to the surface, ready to stretch its legs and play with his pack. He realised suddenly, that he wouldn't be part of the pack night, that Talbot was there and he wasn't welcome until he apologised.  It was strange, the feeling that came with fighting his Alpha, it made his chest tight and his body ache. It left a heavy ball of panic permanently sitting in the bottom of his stomach. 

 

He rolled onto his side turning to face Stiles, who was already awake and reading through the folders. Stiles had his legs pulled up to his chest, the papers balanced on his knees like he thought he'd find more information if it was closer to his face. It was strange, Derek thought, this relationship versus any of the others he'd had. He and Stiles had been together for almost six months now but had never done anything more than kiss and sleep next to each other. There was none of the urgency that Derek had felt with the others, none of the panic that it would suddenly be over, and they would be moving on. 

 

They had so much time together  to look forward to still .  Th ey had weeks to find their likes and dislikes, months to learn each other's habits,  and years to learn each other's bodies.  They didn't need to rush, they didn't need to do anything but what they were doing now.  The thought made some of the panic in his stomach leave, not enough to feel better but enough to let out a sigh. Stiles glanced over at him, a slow smile spreading over his lips. “Morning,” he said with a sleep rough voice. 

 

“Morning,” Derek answered. Stiles turned back to his papers, tucked them back into their folder, and then tossed them onto the floor next to the bed. He shifted around for another minute and then settled down facing Derek. He shuffled forward on the bed until he was close enough to press a kiss to Derek's lips. The crawling feeling under Derek's skin lessened, as Stiles smiled at him. So, Derek yanked Stiles closer, trapping Stiles arms between their chests, and kissing him again. 

 

“Gross,” Stiles said when he pulled back. “Morning breat h.” 

 

“ You think it's bad for you,” Derek mumbled. Stiles shrugged his shoulders, and then nodded his agreement.  Stiles phone beeped on the bedside table, making Stiles shift, but ultimately he decided to ignore it. It was easy enough, Derek had found, to turn off his phone and forgot about it when he was here.  If he was honest with himself, all he wanted to do that day was to shower, go for a run,  and occasionally have a meal .

 

“ Breakfast?” Stiles asked, as his phone went off a second and then third time. Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, but his mate just smiled, pressed another kiss to his lips, and then got up.  Stiles started  with  breakfast,  making almost burnt pancakes that Derek saved at the last second when he got downstairs from his shower.  Stiles had picked up another file and was reading about more missing creatures.  “Sorry,” he said, looking sheepish as he took a plate from Derek. 

 

“ What are you so busy with?” Derek asked as Stiles phone went off agai n.

 

“Nothing really,” Stiles answered, but Derek snatched his phone away from him when it went off again. There was a text from Lydia on the screen.

 

_ 'That's a four-hour drive' _

 

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

 

“Only if you want to,” Stiles answered. “I was going to wait until after breakfast, but someone is nosey.”

 

“Sorry,” Derek answered, but Stiles didn't seem to really mind.

 

“I asked some of the pack, if they wanted to head out to the Monet's property today,” Stiles said. “I thought it might be nice to get out of here for a bit.”

 

“Shouldn't they be going to the run tonight?”

 

“Well, I didn't want you to be alone...” Stiles answered. “I thought, I could ask them, and see what they say.” Derek studied Stiles face for a second, watching the other man try to look calm, but he could see the nervousness that had crept into his features.

 

“And?”

 

“Well, a few people have agreed,” Stiles said.

 

“Really?” Derek asked, and Stiles thought he was more surprised than he should be.

 

“Yeah. Lydia, Jackson, Scott, Erica, Boyd, Cora, Malia, and Danny... are the ones who have answered me so far. I know that you'd probably like more family members, but it's all that—and well Cora and Malia agreed, I hoped that—”

 

“Stiles,” Derek said sharply. Stiles stopped rambling and looked at Derek. “Thank you.”

 

Derek drove them, letting Stiles alternate between babbling and reading silently through the information that the vampire had given him. Derek had always been annoyed by people who talked too much. He didn't want to deal with their constant string of thoughts, pouring from their mouths. Derek glanced over at Stiles and wondered why he didn't drive him crazy. If it was because of their mate connection, or if maybe it was just that Derek needed someone to offset his own silence, and Stiles fit his personality well. Either way, right now, he loved listening to Stiles' voice filling the car.

 

Derek hadn't been to the Monet's property for years, not since he was in Jr. High, and part of their herd had still lived there. They had gone out in the summer and spent warm days there. The adults chatting as the teenagers and kids chased each other through the fields. The last of the Monet's had moved away a few years earlier, they had gone to Montana, where they had found a large property with more open spaces and fields. Cora and a few other pack members had gone out to help them clean out their houses before leaving, he had been sure that Cora was sad to see her friends go. She had gone out there a few times since then, for vacations that weren't too far from home. The Monet's still owned the property, but Derek was pretty sure no one really went there now.

 

“They don't mind they place being used by wolves?” Derek asked two hours into the drive.

 

“Oh, they hate it, just thought I'd piss off some pack allies,” Stiles said, smiling at Derek.

 

“Funny.”

 

“Cora actually suggested the place,” Stiles said.

 

“She's... fine with me?” he asked.

 

“She said, that she thinks you wouldn't have moved out if you weren't really sure. She also hasn't spent much time with him.”

 

“I'm glad,” Derek mumbled.

 

Almost everyone had arrived before them, except for Danny who had told them he brought a few other people. Allison and Issac were there too, both back from a trip to France, looking happy to be home. Issac hugged Derek tightly and nodded curtly at Stiles. Stiles saluted at him and then nodded back when Issac laughed. Scott had brought his friend Kira, who was happy to be allowed to be away from home for the night. Lydia, Jackson, and Boyd were farther in on the property, sitting at the edge of a lake on a large blanket.

 

“I've brought food,” Cora told him, as they walked back to her car. “I need help carrying it all.” There was enough food for an army, but Derek wasn't totally confident it would be enough for them.

 

“I'm glad you came,” he told her.

 

“Mom's been weird, everyone’s been weird, I needed a little normal,” Cora told him, and then laughed. “I can't believe that's you.”

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and she rolled her eyes.

 

“Please, if Kira wasn't here, I would have stayed home,” she said, changing her story after the fact. She didn't actually want Derek to be upset or hurt, but she didn't mind teasing him after the fact.

 

“Isn't mum mad, you're here?” Derek asked her, as they gathered the baskets.

 

“I didn't tell her,” Cora said, slamming the trunk of her car. They carried the food over to the blanket, setting the baskets down. “I've also left my phone in the car. Probably not a bad idea for all of us to turn our phones off.”

 

There was a strange mumbling agreement as the pack went around, and silenced or turned their phones off. Derek decided he would leave his on, just incase there was an emergency. The pack settled around the baskets of food and then ate. They stopped part way through to help Danny bring over another few baskets, and meet two twin wolves he had brought with him. Ethan and Aiden slipped into the pack easily, finding things to talk about, and when the sun started to set they joined in on the games right away.

 

“Shouldn't you be with your Alpha?” Malia asked Aiden.

 

“Don't have one,” he answered. “But, you guys don't seem to either,” he added.

 

“Guess we don't right now,” she said, and then turned to look at Derek. He smiled at her, and then shrugged his shoulders. The group split apart around them, breaking into groups to play games, or talk to each other. Derek found himself in the middle of a game of Frisbee when Boyd shifted and tackled him to the ground. Derek shifted and stole the Frisbee away from Lydia, who threw her hands into the air but was laughing. It was wonderful to slip away from the worry and panic and focus on spending time with his pack. The night fell quickly then, Stiles started a bonfire in the field, and the pack gathered around it.

 

“I'm not going to run,” Lydia said, “I can watch the clothing.”

 

“You sure you don't want to run?” Allison asked as she zipped up her hoodie. “You had so much fun last time.”

 

“I'm sure,” Lydia said, “Stiles and I have work to do.”

 

“What?” Stiles asked. “I want to run.”

 

“Not this time, we have to finish getting through these papers,” she told him, and he sighed.

 

“Guess I'm not running,” he mumbled.

 

“You'll have more fun doing that,” Scott said, as he stripped down. He shifted before Stiles could say anything, and just made him roll his eyes instead. The pack slowly joined in, jumping on each other, nipping at ears and tails. Then when the moon was above them, and the world was lit with silver light, they ran.

 

Derek found himself at the head of the pack, the others chasing him, responding to his howling. He ran through the unfamiliar trees until his lungs hurt, and he crashed to the ground suddenly. The pack jumping around him, the non-shifters had lost them, but Derek could still hear them running and laughing out in the trees. He let his tongue lulled out of his mouth and rolled onto his back. He stared up at the sky, heart jackhammering in his chest, but feeling warm and excited.

 

*********

 

Stiles and Lydia watched the pack disappear into the trees, gathered the scattered clothing, and set it aside. “Most of the names have been reported missing, but only a few groups seemed to realize that Talbot was involved at all,” Lydia said.

 

“I don't think he's always involved,” Stiles said, offering Lydia a pile of papers. On it detailed an attack by a huge man and a woman. “But, I saw his sister in the forest the other night.”

 

“Is this even safe, Stiles?” she asked, gesturing to the spot the others had disappeared.

 

“I doubt it, but they need it,” Stiles said. Lydia sighed slowly but she agreed, the wolves were restless. The split in the pack made them uncomfortable and unhappy. They needed to run together, and feel like they were together. They finished reading all the papers, coming to the last folder, one with Stiles name written across the front of it.

 

“They seemed just as interested in you, as they are in Talbot,” Lydia said.

 

“Gabi said that her mate was in awe of me,” he said. “And her coven was afraid of me.”

 

“In awe of you,” Lydia said slowly.

 

“Unbelievable, huh?” Stiles mumbled as he looked down at the closed folder.

 

“No, it's just scary to know that you're so well known now,” Lydia answered. “I'm scared for you.”

 

“I'll be fine,” Stiles answered.

 

“I believe you,” she said. The non-shifters were the first ones back to the bonfire, Allison helping Kira pull branches from her hair, as she enthused about how fun it had been to race through the trees. Danny dropped down next to the fire, stretching out long and luxuriously, looking almost like he could be part cat as he moved.

“Are you going to read it?” Lydia asked, watching Stiles trail his fingers over the cover.

 

“I'm scared to see what's inside,” he said. Danny looked over at him and raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

 

“You're scared of it?” he asked.

 

“They seemed to know a lot about me, and my bloodline,” Stiles said.

 

“I thought you were an anomaly, human parents with a magical child,” Danny said.

 

“Dad's always said that Mom was magic, but you'd think she'd have been able to do more if she had been...” Stiles said. The thing was, that magic wasn't 100% effective, and if you didn't learn it, you obviously couldn't use it. On top of that, some diseases were strange and confusing, and magic wouldn't touch them. His father had told him that, that was the way his mother sickness had been. Untouchable.

 

Stiles opened the folder then, looking down at a picture of his mother holding him in her arms when he was little. He knew that picture well, it sat on his father's desk at the police station. Then, the air around them filled with a howl. It made them all stop, and look up at the sky. It didn't belong to anyone who was here, but it made them all answer. The pack howled it's response from their spot in the trees. Lydia got to her feet and stared in the direction of the howl.

 

It belonged to Talia.

 

It came a second time and was followed by a chorus from the rest of the pack. Then, the younger wolves responded from the trees. Stiles got to his feet now too, he could see eyes in the dark by their cars. They were shifted and stalking toward the fire. He hadn't heard them coming and it made his chest tighten. He had been paying attention, he was listening for threats, and he should have felt this. Talia reached Stiles first, her body twisting back into her human form. She stood in front of him, naked and angry.

 

“Alpha Hale,” he said, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw.

 

“Stilinski,” she said in response. Her voice was cold and distant, and her eyes looked fogged over and wrong. “Where is the rest of my pack?”

 

“We decided to spend the night together out here,” he answered. “I didn't realise it would be a problem. I wasn't aware that pack nights were mandatory.”

 

“They aren't, but I expect to be kept informed of these kinds of things,” she said. “They are to return home, immediately.”

 

“Derek as well?” Stiles asked. He could hear the pack approaching from behind him, they were shuffling closer, but moving slowly.

 

“Derek can return as soon as he apologises,” she answered.

 

“I won't,” Derek said, as he came up next to Stiles. He had shifted back, pulled on a pair of pants, and was yanking his shirt over his head.

 

“Derek, this is ridiculous,” Talia snapped at him. “Apologize!” she shouted. Her eyes flashed at him, and Derek flinched. His reached out suddenly, and grabbed at Stiles hand. His fingers dug his fingers into Stiles arm, and they both knew if he gripped any tighter he could break Stiles hand. Stiles didn't flinch at the sudden contact, instead he ignored the sudden pain and concentrated on Talia. Talbot was behind the pack, Stiles realized, looking furious and frustrated.

 

“The rest of you,” Talia said, suddenly looking up and passed Stiles. “Come here.” There was a rush of energy that filled the air around them, and the pack behind Stiles whimpered.

 

“I think we're fine here,” Lydia said shortly. Stiles didn't know if wolves could actively disobey their alpha, but when she shouted again no one behind him moved forward.

 

“Come here!” The rest of the pack crowded up behind Talia, their eyes glinting in the firelight, and their bodies seemed to be frozen solid. Stiles realized he knew what that look meant, they were all ready to attack. They were ready to rush forward and kill their own pack if they were ordered to. Stiles looked back at Talia's face, he realized suddenly and to his horror that she might order that. He stepped forward, putting himself closest to the alpha.

 

“I don't think you're in your right mind, Alpha,” Stiles said.

 

“Return my pack to me,” she said through a growl.

 

“They aren't gone, Talia,” Stiles said. “Please, listen to me.” He felt Derek tug at his arm, but he tugged back until his arm was free. He moved Talia, his hand trembling as he reached toward her shoulder.

 

“Don't touch her!” a voice screamed from behind Talia. Stiles thought it was Talbot's voice, but it sounded wrong. It seemed to echo around them like they were standing in a cave. It was deep and dark sounding, making all the hair on Stiles body stand on end. “Don't let him touch her!”

 

Then the pack was on Stiles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is coming to the end??? Maybe?


	11. Chapter 11

Derek felt the air rush out of his lungs as the pack raced forward, they grabbed at Stiles with their claws. It was like time slowed down around him, and the ground was clinging to his feet. Stiles' arms flew up in front of him, leaving trails of silver magic in the air as they went. Then, even faster, he yanked his arms against his chest and let them take him. Jaws clamped down around his limbs, pulling his legs out from under him. Laura grabbed at Stiles' shoulder, yanking back violently. Derek watched Stiles shirt tear in her mouth, leaving blood-soaked plaid between her teeth.

 

“Stiles!” Lydia shouted, but before she finished the word her shout became a scream. Her voice broke through the sound of angry wolves and sent Derek tumbling forward to his mate. He felt himself shift without intention and fell to the ground. He was caught in his clothing, and struggle to free himself. When he had managed, the rest of the pack was passing him, racing at the older wolves. Derek charged forward, tackling Laura to the ground, biting at her shoulders and legs.

 

He didn't want to hurt her, he didn't want to hurt anyone, but now all he could smell was Stiles blood. All he could hear was his own blood, racing through his veins, and screaming in his ears. Someone else grabbed at Laura, he didn't know who it was, but it sent him to the ground. His body rolled, and he collided with someone else. Stiles, he realised. He scrambled to his feet, paws sending grass and gravel into the air. He stood over Stiles body, it was broken and twisted, covered in blood and gore. Derek howled long, loud and pitifully.

 

“Derek!” Allison shouted from behind him, and he turned to see the younger wolves scattering back to the trees. The older wolves were chasing them, snarling and snapping at their heels. Talia was still standing in the same spot, feet planted to the ground like she hadn't seen anything. Talbot was standing behind her now, pressed so close to her back that there was no space between them. His hands were on her shoulders, and he stared-smiling down at Stiles on the ground. He looked so wrong then, his olive skin looked sickly in the firelight, and Derek could see pulses of magic leaking into his mother's shoulders.

 

Derek raced at his mother suddenly, all sharp gnashing teeth, and a broken heart. He smashed into her legs, sending her crashing backwards into Talbot. There was a startled shout, the sound of something breaking, and then his mother shifted and attacked him. She bit down onto his neck, for a second like she was trying to hurt him, but then like she was trying to lift him like when he was a pup. She tugged at him, then let go and growled low in her throat. An arrow raced passed them, hitting the ground behind Talia and startling Derek. “Derek, come on!” Allison shouted and this time he turned and he ran at her.

 

She was already running into the trees, her bow still in hand, but not loaded with anything. The other's were gone, but he could hear them in the trees. There was howling and barking, mixed with very human shouting. He could hear them fighting, and he ran faster toward them. He didn't know what he would do, or how he could stop it, but he chased after Allison who seemed confident. They broke through the underbrush, and come out in the middle of a clearly. The pack was fighting in the middle of it, there was blood and fur flying, Derek couldn't see any of the non-shifters, but he hoped they were okay.

 

Derek raced into the mess, howling as he ran toward them. He wanted to force them apart, to pull the wolves off each other, he wanted to make the fighting stop. The fighting slowed, exhaustion and pain dragging the fight from the wolves. Then the clearing filled with light, like the sun had suddenly risen when they weren't looking. The wolves stumbled back from the light, turning to watch a woman walking toward them.

 

Erica howled when she saw the woman, lowering herself to the ground, and whining at her. Derek realised that this was the woman that had attacked before. Her long silver hair seemed to float around her body, making her look strange and move out of place then she already did. The woman crossed the clearing, walking between the wolves like she didn't even know they were there. The forest around them was silent as she moved, coming toward Derek and Allison slowly but determined.

 

Derek growled at her, but she ignored him, it was Allison she wanted. “Argent,” the woman said.

 

“Yes,” Allison answered. Her voice was stern, as she lifted her bow from her side, and nocked an arrow into place. The woman had a bow of her own, strung over her shoulders, with a quiver of arrows that terrified Derek. The woman studied Allison for a moment and then reached out toward her. Allison let the woman, keeping her eyes on her face, to prove she wasn't afraid of her. The woman reached out and hooked her fingers around the chain of the necklace Allison was wearing. The charm slid down the chain and bumped against the woman's fingers.

 

“Do you know me?” the woman asked. She rubbed the charm between her thumb and forefinger.

 

“No,” Allison answered. The woman's eyes drifted to Allison's arm, where a large messy heart was drawn on her skin.

 

“You have a mate,” she said. Allison didn't answer her, instead, she turned to look back at the pack. “One of them?” she asked.

 

“What does it matter?” Allison asked.

 

“You're sleeping with a wolf,” the woman said, turning back to Allison.

 

“That's none of your business,” Allison snapped.

 

“You are my business,” the woman snapped. She wrapped her hand around the charm and yanked at the necklace. The chain snapped away with ease, but Allison ignored it. The woman looked down at the charm, now in the middle of her hand. “You betray me,” she said, and then dropped the charm to the ground. Derek tried to take a step forward, but he legs refused to move, instead all he managed was a low whimper at Allison.

 

The woman took another step forward, letting the arrow press against her shoulder as she moved. She was almost a full head taller then Allison was, making her have to tilt her head back to look up at her. The woman's eyes flashed, and Allison gasped. She stared up at the woman, head tilted back, mouth open slight. “Oh,” she said as she breathed out. The woman reached out again and traced her fingers along Allison's bow. Then she touched Allison's face, fingers leaving trails of silver moonlight along Allison's skin.

 

“Worship me,” she whispered, but Derek heard it.

 

“I—” Allison said, then choked on the next word.

 

“Worship me,” the woman repeated. Allison's shoulders relaxed, and her arms fell to her sides. Her arrow clattered to the ground, as she stepped to the side, and moved around the woman. Derek forced himself to move forward, Allison's eyes were glazed over and full of stars. Then she lifted her bow back up, nocked another arrow, and in a second fired it into the pack. Someone fell to the ground with a thump, a howl, and then the fighting started again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I switch between spelling Erica with a C and a K...


	12. Chapter 12

Everything was painful, he could feel claws, teeth, and the wetness of blood on his skin. He had thrown his arms up, magic racing through his limbs, ready to defend himself. Then, he had stopped, he had pulled his arms to his chest and closed his eyes, because this was his pack. Even if he hadn't officially been part of it for long, he loved them, and he refused to hurt them. Then very suddenly, he couldn't feel anything at all, it was like he was floating.

 

He let the world shift around him, let the feeling come back to him on its own. Then he was cold. Colder then he thought he had ever been before. The air made all the hair on his body stand on end, and when he breathed in, it made the inside of his nose burn. He moved slowly, groping through the air around him, to see if he could feel anything. After a minute, he sighed and opened his eyes. Weight suddenly returned to his body and he fell, a quick and painful thump to the ground. He groaned and let his eye adjust to the light. He realised after a second that he was right where he had been before.

 

He slowly climbed to his feet, brushing the dirt off his jeans, and looking around. Everyone was gone, and he couldn't hear them anymore. The cars were still haphazardly parked like before, and when he turned the fire was still going as well. But, it looked wrong. Everything looked wrong. The colours of the world were muted, everything looked washed out and grey. The fire moved awkwardly, like pixelated artwork from an old video game. He took a step toward the fire when he noticed that he wasn't alone. There was someone lying on the ground a few feet behind him. He took a step toward the person and realised it wasn't someone else, it was him.

 

His body was torn and coated in blood, most of his shirt was missing, and he only had one shoe on. Stiles walked the few steps toward the body and stared down at himself. “Geez,” he muttered and reached down. His hand brushed against the side of his face, but it didn't feel like anything to him. He took a step back and decided that right now he had to find the pack. He could worry about being dead later. He laughed a little to himself, as he stepped over his own body, and tried to process how strange his life was. He knew the pack would head to the woods, it was the easiest place to hide and hopefully regroup.

 

It took him a minute before he noticed that the edge of the woods weren't getting closer as he walked. Instead, an entirely new pathway was coming into view. There was a strange motion to the path, and as he got closer, he realised it was a river. There was a dock, only a few feet long, with an old broken boat tied to it. The boat was only big enough for two people, and Stiles could see there was already someone in it. He was a thin man, wearing a dark cloak that was in no better shape than the boat itself. Stiles closed the distance between them, and then cautiously stepped onto the dock. “Hey,” Stiles called, drawing the man's attention from the river's surface.

 

“Pay me, and I will take you across the river,” the man said in response.

 

“Oh my god, you're Charon,” Stiles said as soon as the man finished speaking.

 

“Yes. Pay me and I will take you across the river,” he said again. Stiles dug into his pockets, checking to see what he had on him. He was a little surprised to find that he still had his wallet in his pocket, as well as his cellphone, and a mint.

 

“Take me across the river, and I'll pay you,” Stiles said.

 

“I do not make the trip without payment,” Charon answered.

 

“Look, I don't pay a cabbie at the start of a trip, I'm not paying you. On top of that, I've heard stories that you have a bad habit of throwing your passengers into the river if they pay you before you reach the other side,” Stiles said.

 

“Myths,” Charon snapped.

 

“Until a minute ago, to me, you were too,” Stiles said.

 

“You play house with werewolves, but I am a myth,” Charon said slowly.

 

“Does everyone know who I am?” Stiles asked.

 

“Pay me and I will take you across,” he said. Stiles looked out over the river, it was wider than seemed possible, but on the other side was the forest were the pack should be. He took in a deep breath of the freezing air, and then coughed to try and ease the ache it caused.

 

“Honestly, all I have on me is my mostly empty wallet—unless you take credit cards—and this mint,” Stiles said. He held up the candy as he turned to look at Charon again. Charon stared at him, his mouth turning from a thin line into a deep frown. The boat rocked violently as Charon climbed from it, and onto the dock in front of Stiles.

 

“Whoa there buddy,” Stiles said, taking a step back.

 

“Bless the candy, Mage. Bless it, row the boat, and I will take you across the river,” Charon said.

 

“Bless... the... mint?” Stiles asked, staring up at the man. The man had wrinkled skin, grey-brown with age, and dark eyes that stared back at Stiles. He wasn't a tall man, but he felt huge in front of him. “What kind of... blessing are you looking for?”

 

“Yours,” Charon said, and it made Stiles body shiver.

 

“I... I don't think this is a good idea,” he answered, and took a step away. “I'll look for coins on the riverbank.”

 

“Bless it,” Charon hissed and reached toward Stiles.

 

“No!” Stiles shouted. His voice echoed in the world around him, sending a pulse of energy forward, making Charon stumble backwards. Stiles almost wished that the man, or whatever he was, would have fallen into the river. But, instead, the man caught himself at the edge of the dock and then stepped back into his boat.

 

“Then you cannot cross,” he hissed.

 

“Charon,” a woman's voice called. Charon turned sharply, to face the woman who was approaching from behind Stiles.

 

“My lady,” he muttered, sounding bitter and cold. Stiles turned to the woman, as she came up beside him.

 

“Hello,” she said, as she stopped next to him.

 

“Hi,” Stiles said back, blinking a few times. The woman was beautiful, warm, and felt incredibly out of place in the washed out grey world around them.

 

“Are you looking to go to the afterlife?” she asked him, her hands folded in front of her.

 

“What? No! Why would I want that?” Stiles asked.

 

“Then... why are you trying to cross the river?” she asked. Stiles turned to look back at Charon, and then beyond it to the forest. The trees seemed to shift and warp in front of his eyes, and then suddenly they weren't there at all. Instead, it was the darkness that seemed to go on for miles.

 

“I—”

 

“It is not your time to cross the river, nor is it mine,” she said and smiled at him. “Come, your path is this way, not that.” The woman turned around, and started to walk back toward where his body was, but paused when she realised Stiles wasn't following her.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, but he had a feeling he already knew. When she walked the world seemed to light up, and as her feet touched the ground grass and flowers broke through the gravel pathway, and sprung to life.

 

“Persephone,” she answered.

 

“I don't understand,” Stiles said.

 

“That's because no one's told you anything,” she said, still smiling. “Are you going to follow me?” she asked.

 

“How do I know that's any safer than getting into Mr Gloomy's boat?” he asked, gesturing over his shoulder. Persephone laughed softly, and it made Stiles stomach flip, but he didn't understand why.

 

“I suppose you don't know,” she said. “But, I'm not asking for anything. I don't need coins or blessings for my time. You're important to me, Mieczyslaw.”

 

“What?” Stiles asked, and closed the distance between them. “How do you know that name?”

 

“Because it is yours,” she answered. Then, she bent down and plucked a white flower from the pathway. She righted herself and then offered the flower to Stiles. “To set your mind at ease, take my blessing.” Stiles gently took the flower from between her fingers and watched as it melted away into his skin. The world around him seemed a little less cold now, and he smiled at her.

 

“Thank you,” he said.

 

“You're welcome, now come, it's important we continue on,” she said. Stiles did follow her this time, glancing at her every few minutes, confused but unsure how to ask his questions. Persephone was just shorter than him, with long brown hair braided back with out of season flowers. She was dressed in white robes, adorned with gold thread and medallions. She had a bag at her side, and it was full of fruit and unprocessed wheat. He looked back to the pathway ahead of him, to keep himself from tripping.

 

He had expected to come across his body again, but the longer then walked, the clearer it was that it was gone. He wondered what this place was if it was purgatory or something else entirely. The world changed as they walked, shifting from the Monet's property to a world of dark colours and hidden things. He could hear creatures around him, skittering across the ground, in the darkness. He could see eyes in the shadows, blinking out at him, watching him walking. They were following them, he realised, as they continued to walk. The longer they were quiet, the more he could hear whispering around them. Soft words being exchanged between the creatures he couldn't see.

 

“Ignore them,” Persephone said when she noticed that Stiles kept looking to the shadows. “They're just curious.”

 

“About me? Or you?” he asked.

 

“You,” she answered. “I've walked this path many times, as have many other psychopomps.”

 

“What?”

 

“Guides,” she said, reaching into her side bag. “We guide the souls of the dead to their final resting place.”

 

“I thought you were the Queen of the underworld,” he said, watching her pull out a pomegranate.

 

“I am many things, just like you are,” she said, breaking into the skin of the fruit. “Would you like some?” she asked. Stiles watched as she pulled a few of the seeds free, and held them out towards him.

 

“Am I going to be stuck here if I eat them? Suddenly have to be Hades's consort?” Stiles asked. Persephone laughed and shook her head.

 

“Not unless I can be your mate's consort, in exchange,” she said.

 

“You wanna consort with Derek?” he asked, taking the seeds from her. Each time he made her laugh, the knot in his stomach loosened and he felt himself relax.

 

“I wouldn't mind,” she answered, “though Hades would. Too bad, I suppose we will have to stay with our own mates.” She tossed a few seeds into her mouth, Stiles watched her for a second longer, and then ate the seeds himself. He almost expected her to laugh, and tell him she had lied, but she didn't. She just kept walking.

 

“Are you and Hades soulmates?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

 

“Some of the only ones,” she said softly. She held her arm out to him, where words he couldn't read were scrawled over her skin. “Not many gods get soulmates.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“We don't really know. I think it has to do with how human you let yourself be,” she answered.

 

“I have trouble picturing Hades letting himself be human... with the stories I've read about him,” Stiles said. She laughed softly and nodded at him. She pulled her arm back to her side, once Stiles had finished trying to figure out what the words were.

 

“He is different than the other gods,” she said. “I suppose, I am as well.”

 

“I'm still confused,” he said slowly. “What's going on?”

 

“I can't tell you, you'll have to ask the person we're going to see,” she answered.

 

“What?”

 

“You'll see,” she answered. “Come on, we're almost there.” The creatures around them were stumbling out of the shadows now, not bothering to hide from them anymore. They were following behind them, snatching the grass and flowers from Persephone's footprints. Then, they reached the edge of a forest, and the creatures scattered back into the shadows. The forest was tightly packed with trees, letting almost no light pass through them. The pathway split now, leaving Stiles standing in the middle of a crossroad. “You'll have to carry on alone now.”

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“I have to get back home,” she answered. “And you must make the rest of the decisions yourself. No one will approach you now. No one will try and trick you into hell, and no one will offer to show you the way. You must choose which direction is correct.” The pathways curved off in a different direction in the trees, and each direction looked just a terrifying as the one before it.

 

“Can I go back to the river?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

 

“If you choose that,” she answered. “But, I will tell you, nothing is there for you now. That world has faded away. You will only find Charon and his boat.”

 

“Thank you,” he said softly.

 

“You're welcome, Mieczyslaw,” she answered. Stiles laughed a little this time and shook his head.

 

“Please call me, Stiles,” he said, and she grinned at him.

 

“Very well, Stiles. Be safe,” she said. He nodded his head, turned back to the pathways, and after a moment he started forward down the path heading to the left.

 

***

 

Stiles walked for hours through the dark woods, a few times he'd pause and look behind him, wondering if he'd made the right choice. Then, he decided that it was too late to turn back. So he snapped his fingers a few times and conjured a ball of light in the palm of his hand. There was no light anymore, the trees were almost solid walls blocking off the sides of the path. So he kept going. He walked until his legs ached and his feet hurt, but he kept going. He wasn't sure how long he walked for, but he finally stumbled into a clearing, and a second crossroad.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles snapped, his voice echoing around him. He sighed and lowered himself to the ground to try and work the ache out of his legs. He lay down next, stretching his arms out over his head, and kicking his feet restlessly. Then, he groaned and sat back up too quickly. His head spun for a moment, and then he realised that things around him were different. The trees were farther apart, and he wasn't sure which direction he had come from. He groaned again. “Goddammit, Stilinski.”

 

He reached out and grabbed the ball of light that had been floating beside him, and crushed it in his hands. Then he twisted it around, and forced it down into the gravel pathway, causing the gravel to bubble and pop out of place. He rubbed his hands over his legs, working warm magic into them to ease some of the aches. Then he climbed back to his feet and stared down each path. There didn't seem to be anything different about them, if someone told him that that were all the same path, he would have believed them.

 

He twisted around until he found the moon peering through the tops of the trees in the clearing. The moon hung over one of the paths, and he decided that was as good a reason to walk that path as any. So, he started toward the moon, ready to walk until his legs didn't work anymore. He tree thickened again as he walked, and all he could do was hope this wasn't the direction he had come from. He made another ball of light and tossed it forward like a baseball. He watched it race out of sight, casting shadows along the trunks of the trees as it went. When it vanished from his sight, he snapped another ball into existence and tossed it like the first one. He wondered if the wolves would chase the light if they were here if in the future he'd have the chance to try it.

 

He walked for ages again, until someone in the distance screamed. The scream broke the silence and filled Stiles with panic. So he started to run toward the scream. The problem was that he couldn't tell where it was coming from. He thought it sounded like it was ahead of him, but it echoed around. Another scream came then, and Stiles realised he knew the voice. It sounded like Cora. Then another and another, until each member of the pack was screaming around him.

 

“Where are you?” Stiles shouted. The screams were held impossibly long, and as he ran he knew that they couldn't be real screams. But each time the screaming looped he couldn't do anything but keep running down the path. He let his magic course down to his fingertips, and held it in his hands. Stiles ran down the road, feet pounding on the gravel, kicking it into the air behind him. He could hear them screaming, off in the distance like twisted echoes of their joyful shouting earlier that day.

 

“You won't find them,” someone said from behind him, making Stiles stumble to a stop. He spun around, to face the owner of the voice, only to find no one there.

 

“Come on!” Stiles shouted. He threw a ball of energy into the trees, watching it bounce harmlessly through them before disappearing.

 

“Do you know where you are?” the voice asked again.

 

“No,” Stiles answered. Now that he had stopped moving again, he could feel exhaustion creeping back into his limbs. He swayed back and forth, before stomping his foot against the ground and turning around again. He walked down the path, listening to his footfalls echoing around him, like he was being followed.

 

“Do you want to know where you are?” they asked.

 

“I don't care where I am, I just want to know how to get back,” Stiles answered. He glanced back over his shoulder, but no one was there. The echoing footsteps were his, even if they didn't sound like it.

 

“Very well,” the voice said, and suddenly Stiles could see light ahead of him. He started walking faster, stumbling as he went until he broke through into another clearing. It might have been the same one he was in before, but he couldn't tell. Ahead of him, he could see the silhouette of a person on the path in front of him.

 

“Please tell me I'm not seeing things,” Stiles said.

 

“You are seeing things,” a voice said from his left. He turned sharply and realised there was someone standing on the other path as well. He turned again to check the last direction only to find that way empty.

 

“That's not reassuring,” Stiles said.

 

“Aren't you always seeing things, when you can see?” the voice asked.

 

“Yes,” Stiles answered, and then sighed heavily. “Please, tell me what's going on.”

 

“You've died,” this time, Stiles could tell the voice was female. He took in a sharp breath and turned to look at the figure in front of him. He knew that voice. It was a distant memory, one that he clung to and refused to let go of.

 

“Mum?” he asked and took a step toward the figure. She took a step toward him, as did the other figure.

 

“I'm sorry, Mieczyslaw, but I am not,” she said. Stiles took another step, and she did the same, mirroring his movements until they stood almost in the middle of the crossroad.

 

“You... You look just like her,” Stiles said when she came into view. The woman almost looked like his mother, but now that he was close enough, he could see differences. Her skin was the wrong colour, it was darker then his mother's had been. Her hair was styled differently, and the wrong shade of brown.

 

“You do too,” the woman said. He looked at the figure to his left, who looked so much like him, she could have been his sister.

 

“Who are you?” he asked.

 

“Hecate,” the one in front of him answered. He watched the other figure's mouth move, but no sound came from it.

 

“Yes, and so are you,” the one to the left said. Stiles turned back to the woman in front of him.

 

“What?”

 

“You are my kin,” she answered. “My child's child. You have taken part of me like your mother did before you.”

 

“I don't understand! I'm not even Greek!” Stiles snapped.

 

“Counties are lines drawn by humans, Mieczyslaw. People travel and move through the world like water, there is no distinction between people to a god.”

 

“Your telling me, I'm descended from a god?”

 

“You're a god,” the figure to his left said.

 

“I don't...” he trailed off before he stared down at his hands. “I don't know you,” he finally said.

 

“I belong to the fringes of the world, easily forgotten and buried by gods with louder voices and bigger personalities. But, I am powerful and so are you. In a way, none of your ancestors before you have been. You have torn me apart, and claimed part of me for yourself,” Hecate said, rolling her shoulders back to reveal broken and mangled arms.

 

“I didn't—”

 

“Do not feel guilt for this, because I am proud of you. You've taken a third of me. You've taken the sky and the moon from my grasp and made them yours.” The sky above them cleared as she spoke, letting the moon come into view and light the clearing around them. Stiles realised then, that someone was standing behind him, so close that he could never have seen them before. Like his shadow had pulled itself from the ground, and waited behind him. Stiles turned slowly, to look at the figure behind him. Realising this time, that it was his mother.

 

“Hello, Stiles,” she said softly. “I can't stay long, but I need to give you this. I wish we could talk.” She held a set of keys out to him when their hands touched, she grabbed him and pulled him against her. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her until it hurt.

 

“I love you,” Stiles said, sounding frantic as he spoke.

 

“I love you too,” she answered. “I'll see you when you when it's your time.” Then she was gone, his arms falling through the place she had been.

 

“I don't understand,” he muttered. He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed tears from his eyes. He had the keys in his other hand, so cold that it made his skin hurt.

 

“Gods are vain, jealous creatures,” Hecate said. “Some do not get the joys that humans do. The ones that do, do not always get to keep that joy. They are arrogant and so many of them crave so much more. You, Mieczyslaw, are special. You have the powers of a god and the joy of a human. You can't let those who are jealous destroy that for you.”

 

“You mean Talbot?” he asked, turning around to face her again.

 

“I do, but that's not his name,” Hecate said softly. “You must find his name.”

 

“You can't tell me?” he asked.

 

“I cannot,” she answered.

 

“Why did I come here?” he asked. “I've been close to death before...”

 

“You have been close, but you were torn apart this time. You came here because so we could meet,” Hecate said.

 

“Will I be able to learn about your when I get back?”

 

“You will find myths and stories that tell you about me. You will discover things through these stories that help you know yourself. My symbols are your strengths, Mieczyslaw, let them guide you to your full potential,” Hecate said.

 

“You must banish Talbot,” the figure to his left said. “The world doesn't need us like they use to. The world has evolved to care of itself, the world soul has chosen new caregivers, new creatures and people to take over for the gods. We have been given time to rest. You, Stiles, are a new caregiver. The world soul travels through your veins, you connect us to everything else.” Stiles stared back down at his hands, watching his magic pulse through his veins, making his skin glow against the darkness around him.

 

“What about Talbot's sister?” he asked.

 

“She is willing to help him and she always will. But, she cannot hurt you, and you cannot hurt her. You are the same.”

 

“So ignore her, and focus on Talbot,” Stiles said, fiddling with the keys.

 

“Incapacitate her companion. She will flee to save him.”

 

“The giant with her?”

 

“He is nothing more than a hunter.”

 

“Okay... so, take out a hunter, scare away the sister, banish Talbot,” Stiles said.

 

“Take the fourth path,” Hecate said, and the figure to his left pointed down the empty path ahead of her. “It will take you home.”

 

“Can I ask how long this walk will be?”

 

“As long as you feel it needs to be,” Hecate answered.

 

“Okay...” he mumbled. Stiles stepped forward, Hecate mirroring his movements. There was a moment where he pressed against her and her other figure, and then she slipped through him like a ghost. They rotated on the pathway, and as Stiles started down the fourth path, the other two went down the paths they were now on. Stiles didn't look back at Hecate, instead, he started to run, the keys jingling at his side, and the moon lighting his path. He ran until he was deep in the trees again, and finally, he came to a wall of trees that ended the path. In the middle of the wall was a door, made of light wood with daggers carved into the surface. Stiles pressed the largest key into the lock, pleased when it clicked to the side, and the door swung open.

 

There was nothing passed the door, only darkness and the metallic smell of blood. When he tossed a ball of light through the doorway, nothing changed. The light shot out into the darkness, but nothing lit up, it stayed just as dark with a dot of light disappearing into the distance. Stiles took another deep breath and stepped through into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter lengths vary drastically. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	13. Chapter 13

Derek jumped on top of Peter, knocking him back from where he had Erika pinned to the ground. Then just as quickly, someone grabbed him, and lifted him off the ground. Panic spread through him, as the person lifted him up and away like he was nothing. He thrashed in their grip, but couldn't break away from them. The person carrying him was a huge hulking man that was impossibly strong. As soon as they were out of the clearing and into the edge of the forest, the man threw Derek to the ground and held him down. He realized that Talbot and the woman were standing over him, but all he could do was growl at them.

 

“Did you know if you skin a werewolf, while they're a wolf, the pelt becomes flesh as you cut it away?” Talbot asked, squatting down next to Derek. Then Talbot smiled and laughed at him. “You should shift back, come on, let's talk.” Derek just growled up at him, until Talbot sighed and looked up at his sister. She walked around to his side and then knelt down next to him.

 

“Can you hold him still?” she asked the huge man. He nodded and flipped Derek onto his back, and gathered Derek's legs on of his hands. Derek struggled, trying to kick the man away, but being unable to. The man's other hand came down on Derek's throat, pressing him into the ground, and making him unable to see what was happening.

 

“Thank you,” she said slowly, and then ran her fingers through the fur on Derek's chest. Her fingers were freezing cold, but slowly became warm, and then a pulse of energy fired through his body. He howled out in pain, and as he did it shifted with him; from an echoing howl to a painful and human scream. The man let go of Derek's limbs as he shifted, letting Derek roll onto his side, and away from the woman.

 

Talbot was on top of him a second later, forcing Derek to his back again, and grabbing at his face to make him look up at him. “I knew it'd be you the second I saw you. It's better knowing you're Stiles mate. I think I like it better, knowing you didn't trust me.” Derek stared up at Talbot, jaw set stubbornly, and eyes unblinking. “Your mother did say you weren't very talkative, but I'd hoped in your last few minutes you'd be more willing to say something.”

 

He reached out toward his sister and waved his hand a little until she placed a silver dagger into his hand. Talbot glanced at it for a second, before nodding his head and spinning it around in his hand. Derek clenched his teeth, and took a deep breath in through his nose, to prepare himself for the blade. “Most people ask why, at least,” Talbot said to him, but Derek just stared at him unafraid or concerned. There was a loud pop behind them, and the huge man shouted as he spun around.

 

“Well, how about you tell me why?” Lydia snapped, holding a gun up but knowing that it really meant nothing to these people. The huge man lunged at her, and she fired the gun again, sending a second bullet into him. The first one had passed through his arm, the second one embedded itself into his shoulder.

 

“What the fuck is he?” Danny snapped, from beside her.

 

“Please deal with them,” Talbot snapped, and the man rushed them.

 

“Not human,” Lydia snapped and fired a third time.

 

“I told you this was stupid!” Danny shouted, and grabbed her arm. He dragged her back into the trees, and the man followed them. He left a trail of blood along the ground as he ran. His blood smelt strong, making Derek's stomach twist as he tried to breath. It smelt closer to rot than to blood. Talbot rolled his eyes as he turned back to look at Derek.

 

“I'll return to the others,” his sister said, raising to her feet beside them.

 

“Very well,” Talbot mumbled. She moved away from them and back toward the fighting Derek could still hear. “Ready to chat now that we're along?” Talbot asked, but Derek just stared at him. “You're no fun, Derek.” Talbot pressed the blade to Derek's side, the flat side of the blade pressed to his skin. Derek's body reacted on its own, trying to flinch away from the silver, but only managing to convulse and press against it again. Talbot laughed and then snapped his fingers, making something wrap around Derek's limbs to hold him to the ground. Then slipped off of Derek's chest, and sat cross-legged on the ground next to him.

 

Whatever it was that was restraining him burned at his skin like it was made out of something too hot to be touched. Derek could feel his skin bubble against the restraints, healing just as fast at the things burned him. When he glanced at his arm, he couldn't see anything there. All he could see was his skin burning. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his head drop back to the ground. “Are you giving up?” Talbot asked, sounding more disappointed than Derek thought he should. “I really was hoping for more. Your mate has so much fight in him, where is your fight?” Talbot waited for a second to see if Derek would respond and then sighed again.

 

“It's more fun when you talk, Derek, though I suppose you're just being stubborn. Luckily, I don't need you to talk for this. I just thought you'd like to know what all this was for,” Talbot said. He had started to do something next to Derek, he thought he might be digging into a bag or something. But, Derek didn't care enough to open his eyes and look. Right now, he wasn't actually worried about Talbot. Lydia had come to him to reassure him, and Talbot hadn't realised it. She hadn't screamed since Stiles had been attacked. It had been sudden and very different from normal. She had come to Derek and hadn't heralded his death, and if nothing else, that comforted him.

 

“I'll have to track Stiles down, once this is done,” Talbot mumbled. Derek opened his eyes at this, looking over at Talbot who was smiling at him. “Glad to see there’s something you're still interested in.” Talbot held the dagger in front of him, spun it once in his hand, and then slammed it down onto Derek's chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like this chapter. I really had to force it, and that's rarely good for a story. So I'm sorry. I'm gonna try and update again. Hopefully in the next couple days if not sooner.
> 
> If this feels unfinished or weird, it's totally because it is. I just thought it'd be better to post something and move on. Instead of just ignoring it forever. ^^;


	14. Chapter 14

It felt like it had been hours as Stiles moved through the darkness like it didn't matter how far he went it would never end, but then it suddenly did. He fell with a thump to the ground and swore when his knees hit the ground. He only had a second to adjust before something crashed through the trees behind him, and then there was screaming. “Stiles? Oh my god! Stiles!” It was Danny yelling at him, and then his arms were around him and dragging him away. Lydia was there too, Stiles realised, shouting about being chased.

 

“No!” Stiles shouted, and yanked away from Danny.

 

“What are you doing?” he snapped, but Stiles had already turned around. He was standing in the middle of a crossroad, like the one he had met Hecate in. He could feel the moonlight around him like it was liquid that he could grab. So he did. He pulled it into his body, let it soak through his clothing and into his skin. Then he forced it all down into his hands and forced it to burn. A second later the giant man came out of the trees, blood leaking down the front of him.

 

“You shouldn't be here!” he shouted when he saw Stiles. The man pulled a bow from his back, the moonlight caught and glinted off the tip of a silver arrow that he nocked into place. It fired, whistling through the air, and exploding on the moonlight around Stiles. “You're like her,” he said and took a step back. Stiles pulled his hands toward himself, and then forced them forward, sending a spiral of light out. It sent the man tumbling to the ground, slamming into a tree behind him.

 

Stiles walked forward out of the moonlight, leaving the shield behind him, as he walked toward the man. When he was over him, the smell of rot filled his nose and made him cough. “You're too long dead, to be walking around,” Stiles said covering his mouth with his hand. “Who are you?”

 

“Orion,” the man answered. His voice a mix of awe and terror, as the mage stood over him.

 

“Shouldn't you be in the sky?” he asked.

 

“They brought me back as punishment,” he answered and choked on a sob. “She pulled me from my spot in the heavens and forced me to stumble after them. I want to return to my place and silence.”

 

“How did she bring you back?”

 

“She led the moon across the sky and dragging me to the ground as she went,” he answered.

 

“I'll send you back,” Stiles said, surprising himself with the confidence he felt when he said it.

 

“Only she can,” Orion hissed.

 

“We're the same,” Stiles said as understanding settled in his chest. “I'll _put_ you back.” Stiles lifted one of his hands up and then dropped it back to his side, creating a string of light in the air. He lifted his hand again, and then waved it through the light, making it fly forward and collide with Orion's skin. For a second, nothing happened, then he was climbing to his feet, and laughing. His skin went grey and see-through until seven bright lights appeared over his body. Stiles reached out again, this time running his hand up along Orion's cheek, then the man exploded. The seven lights shot into the sky above them, racing into the night, before settling back where they belonged.

 

Everything was silent for a minute, the wind racing through the trees, and the leaves rustling. Then, from behind him, Danny snapped, “what the fuck did you just do?” Stiles twisted around to see his friends standing, looking afraid and confused.

 

“Never mind that! The pack!” Lydia shouted, and forced herself from her stunned silence. She ran forward, grabbed Stiles arm, and dragged him back into the trees. “You'll explain everything later,” she ordered.

 

“Yes!” Stiles answered, and pulled away from her again. They raced through the trees until Stiles found the clearing and the fighting. With confidence he'd never felt before, Stiles threw his arms up and out, sending the wolves in different directions. There was a visible energy now, letting him see which wolf was being controlled and which wasn't. In the middle of the clearing was Allison, on her knees next to Talbot's sister. “Artemis, I'm thrilled to meet you!” Stiles shouted.

 

“You as well,” she answered. “Kill him again,” she said, but the wolves didn't move. They crouched down low to the ground, staring at Stiles like they had never seen anything like him before. He laughed suddenly, so loudly that it echoed around him.

 

“What kind of werewolf attacks the moon?” he asked, throwing up hands up in the air. “It's weird, how we overlap like this. But you're just the carrier aren't you, the chariot driver to drag the moon through the sky!”

 

“You're just a child!” she shouted.

 

“A fucking confused one at that!” he shouted back. He felt panic rising in his chest because he realised that he couldn't see Derek. But, he could suddenly feel him, in pain and desperate to not cry out. “Where's your brother?” he asked.

 

“Taking his pelt,” she answered. Stiles took a deep breath, looked around him, and then acted. He threw light through the clearing, forcing the control from the packs mind.

 

“Lydia, Danny! Get that necklace off of Allison, it's Artemis's symbol. Until it's gone, so's she,” Stiles yelled, running through the clearing, and to the other side. He stumbled forward, using his magic to desperately reach out for Derek. He found them because Derek finally screamed. His voice echoed through the trees like it had in purgatory, and Stiles chased it. He ran into the darkness until he found them.

 

“Apollo!” he shouted. The man whipped around, getting to his feet as he did, and in one swift movement, buried the silver dagger into Stiles' stomach.

 

“Well,” Apollo mumbled and yanked the dagger back out. “I suppose you've caught me at a bad time.” Stiles grabbed at Apollo's shoulder and tried to take a step forward.

 

“Y-yeah. Nights not a great time for you,” he hissed. Apollo twisted the dagger sharply, making Stiles whimper in pain.

 

“I have bad news for you, Stiles,” he said, leaning in closer to him. “Moonlight is just the light of the sun. I'm always fine, I meant, I'm in the middle of skinning a wolf, I don't have time for you.”

 

“I don't understand,” Stiles said. He pulled one hand from Apollo's shoulders and grabbed at the dagger in his side. His blood leaked through his clothing, coating his side and hand, as he did. “Is this really all because you're jealous?”

 

“I'm not jealous,” Apollo snapped.

 

“Hecate said you are. Jealous and vain.”

 

“Hecate isn't even a real god,” Apollo answered. “A creature that crawled into our place, being added to our lives by idiotic humans.”

 

“Sounds like you're jealous,” Stiles said. “Why are you killing them?”

 

“You're really going to bleed to death, just ask a few questions? You won't be saved a second time if you die.”

 

“I don't mind, I gotta know,” Stiles said. He let his hand fall away from the dagger, letting blood drip from his fingertips to the ground.

 

“Too bad,” Apollo snapped and yanked the dagger free from Stiles side. Stiles stumbled forward, as Apollo stepped back, he hit the ground and shouted. “I have work to do.” Derek hadn't moved, Stiles realised, he was still laying on his back his chest torn up, and covered in blood. Apollo managed to drop to his knees again before Stiles screamed.

 

“Don't touch him!” he shouted, and the world seemed to shake. The pool of blood beside Stiles light up and the creatures that had been following him in purgatory came rushing forward. They scrambled over each other, desperate and panicked to get to Apollo. They grabbed at him, tearing at anything they could reach. Apollo pulled away from them, away from Derek, and threw them away from him. Apollo used light the same way Stiles did, throwing it through the creatures, and tearing them apart. Stiles managed to get back to his feet, ignoring the pain in his side, and the frantic screaming and fighting.

 

He dropped down next to Derek and with his bloodied hand, he pressed it to Derek's chest. There was wolfsbane inside Derek's wounds, but that was easy enough to deal with. Stiles concentrated his magic into his hand again, and let it flow down into Derek's chest. Just like he had with Peter, he slowly and carefully picked the wolfsbane from the wounds. Then suddenly they started healing, and all Stiles could do was laugh. Derek stared up at Stiles, and as soon as he could he wrapped his arms around him. “You were dead,” he said.

 

“Only temporarily,” Stiles answered. He groaned as Derek yanked him in closer, “I shouldn't have let him stab me so hard.”

 

“Are you going to be alright?” Derek asked as he let him go.

 

“I'll be fine,” Stiles answered. He had figured out how to treat his own wounds like the wolves did, but it took longer and didn't come as naturally to him. “Let's get back to the pack. They should be fine now.” Derek got up and dragged Stiles to his feet. They made it back to the clearing, but it was empty, they kept going. Until they reached the place the fire had been, and the cars were. A lot of the pack was there, but some were missing. They had all shifted back, gotten dressed in whatever clothing they could find, or wrapped themselves in blankets from the cars, and they were talking.

 

Talia noticed them first, and she raced toward them. It was strange to see her, wearing a pair of Lydia's pink sweatpants, and Issac's leather jacket. She looked small, and out of place in the clothing. She wrapped her arms around them both, and after a second of silence, they realised she was crying. “Mum?” Derek mumbled.

 

“I'm sorry!” she said, pulling back. Derek stared at her for a second before he nodded his head and smiled.

 

“It's okay,” he answered.

 

“No, it's not. I knew I was wrong, but no matter what I did I couldn't say it to you,” she said.

 

“It's fine, mum, really,” Derek said, and then looked passed her to the cars. “Is everyone okay?”

 

“No, a few are very hurt, and some aren't here at all. When those two ran, some of the pack followed them,” she said.

 

“In my defence, I have never un-brainwashed someone before,” Stiles said, and then grunted a little as he moved. “Let along a whole pack.”

 

“Stiles your bleeding isn't getting better,” Derek snapped.

 

“You're right, it doesn't seem to be,” Stiles said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly the world seemed to tilt on his side, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Another chapter really quick, like I said! (I'm honestly so proud of myself for actually getting it done) 
> 
> Let me know if you see any mistakes! I was only able to reread this really quickly.


	15. Chapter 15

Derek caught Stiles and lifted him up against his chest. Talia gave him a weak smile and then turned back to the mess that was the pack. People were milling around the cars, deciding who would drive home, and who would have to run. Derek carried Stiles to the Jeep, holding him against his chest. Issac got into the back with them, sitting pressed against the door to give Stiles as much room as he could. Scott drove them home with Allison next to him stitching closed a gash on her arm. Derek watched the others climb into different vehicles, cramming too many people in each one, and then he watched others shift. He searched the crowd as they pulled out onto the main road, and realised that Laura and his father were some of the pack members who were there.

 

They drove in silence until Issac begged for Scott to turn the radio on. “I can't deal with this,” he said, and Scott agreed. None of them listened to what was playing, but it helped with some of the tension that was there. They arrived at the Hale compound first, and no one was there. The non-shifter members of the pack, who had stayed behind at the house, were gone too. Derek carried Stiles upstairs, laying him out in his bed, and checking his wounds. He was relieved to see the bleeding had stopped, and now they just had to wait for Stiles to start healing.

 

Soon everyone was coming into the house, Derek could hear them talking about what to do next. He heard Peter tell a few people to follow him, to check the other houses for people. He suddenly felt sick, when he realised that all the children were gone too. He looked at Stiles for another minute, before he left the room, and headed downstairs to help them search. He took a few spare keys and went to the closest house. Each one was empty, as he worked his way further from the main house. Then he heard something, off in the trees, and he started running. He raced passed the rest of the house, passed Stiles greenhouse, and out into the woods.

 

There was an old tree house hidden in the tree ahead of him, still standing stubbornly against the elements. Unwilling to let nature tear away the memories built there. It was big enough for a few adults to sit in, but they had to get on their knees to go inside. But, it was big enough for the kids, and Derek could hear crying as he got closer. “Maggie?” Derek called as he got closer. She was the oldest child in the pack, but she didn't answer him. He frantically climbed the ladder to the tree house, praying it would hold his weight as he went.

 

More kids started to cry as he climbed the ladder, and then he could hear growling. It was soft and very young sounding. He yanked the door open, and in front of him were most of the pups. Including a small and very angry black wolf. “Emily,” he said, and as soon as he had she stopped growling. His cousins, nieces, and nephew rushed the door at the same time. They were crying and screaming, and so scared. Derek helped each of them down to the ground and checked each of them over.

 

“Mommy left!” Nathan shouted at him through tears, clutching his baby brother in his arms. Evan was crying too, but more out of confusion than fear like the others.

 

“Come on, let's go back home, we'll be able to find your mum after that, okay?” he said softly. Derek let Jeanette climb onto his back and then carried Alex and Taylor because they were too young to walk. The others followed him, Sana grabbed one pant leg and Travis grabbed the other. He made his way back to the main house, where he was greeted by panicked parents, who gathered their children. Talia took Nathan and Evan, leaving Derek alone with Emily who hadn't shifted back yet. He sat on the porch, and let her crawl onto his lap.

 

Peter was out in the compound, and he would take her when he got back. But for now, he was good enough. He wondered if the fear had forced her to shift or if she had wanted to protect the other kids so badly she forced it herself. She was so small, and it made Derek worry for her. She lay on his lap, shaking like she was freezing, but when Derek touched her, she was burning. She didn't move until there was running coming toward them, and then Derek could see Peter. He ran frantically toward them, and Emily did the same. She leapt from Derek's lap, crashed to the ground, hopped back to her feet, and raced to her dad.

 

“Oh my god, Emi. Oh my god!” Peter said as he scooped her into his arm. Derek didn't remember seeing Corrine before and wondered if she was one of the ones who had run off. Derek got to his feet and went back inside. It was so quiet, even with everyone talking to each other about what to do. It was still quiet. He went back to his room and climbed onto his bed next to Stiles. He sat and listened to the others downstairs, still talking about what to do, about how to find the other pack members. He realised, he could hear his mother crying, so he focused on her.

 

“Can you howl?” Nathan asked softly.

 

“I already did,” she told him.

 

“Then why hasn't mommy and daddy come home?” he asked.

 

“I don't know baby,” she said.

 

“But you're the Alpha!” Nathan snapped, and Talia sobbed. Derek stopped listening then, unwilling to hear the little boy break down again. Derek turned his attention to Stiles, and stared down at Stiles' face, feeling more confused and scared than he ever had before.

 

“You're going to bore a hole through his face, if you keep looking at him that hard,” Peter said, from the doorway.

 

“He's been through a lot,” Derek mumbled. “I want to make it up to him.”

 

“You have a long time to do that,” Peter answered. “Emily says you're the one who found them.”

 

“I just got there first,” Derek answered.

 

“Still...” Peter mumbled. Derek turned his attention to Peter, who was looking uncomfortable, and like he had been crying. In one had he had a glass of water and in the other Stiles bag. “Thank you, Derek.”

 

“It's fin—”

 

“No. Listen to me,” Peter said. “Thank you, Derek. I don't know what I would have done if Emily wasn't here.”

 

“You're welcome,” Derek said after a few seconds of silence. Peter nodded his head at him and then handed him the glass of water he had been holding.

 

“For when he wakes up,” Peter said and put the bag down next to the bed.

 

“Thanks,” Derek said, and Peter nodded again. Derek turned back to Stiles when Peter left, waiting to change him out of his blood-soaked clothing but being too afraid to do so. He didn't worry about it for too long because John arrived a few minutes later and he did it. Derek only helping John hold Stiles up to get him into clean clothing after the fact. Stiles was dead weight right now and made no noise at all.

 

“Weird him being so quiet,” John whispered, like it was a secret thought he had, had. “Does he still mumble in his sleep?”

 

“All the time,” Derek answered making John laugh a little.

 

“He always has ever since he learned how,” John said. Derek waited a minute to see if John was going to say anything else and then asked.

 

“Is Melissa...?”

 

“She's gone,” he mumbled. “She was at the house, but she's gone.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Derek answered.

 

“We'll find 'em,” he said. “All of 'em.”

 

*********

 

Stiles woke up somewhere that was too warm, and when he shifted everything ached. He opened his eyes slowly, a little scared that he would suddenly fall to the ground like he had last time. But, it didn't happen. Instead, he realised he was in a bed, wrapped in blankets, and Derek's arms. He groaned a little as he shifted, and that woke Derek up. “Stiles?” he asked sharply.

 

“Hey,” he mumbled and blinked a few times. “I feel like I was hit by a bus.”

 

“No, just mauled by wolves and then stabbed,” Derek said, but Stiles thought he might be about to cry.

 

“Is everyone okay?” he asked.

 

“Almost,” Derek answered. “Half the pack is gone.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Stiles mumbled. “I should have—”

 

“No, you did everything you could,” Derek answered sternly. “It would have been so much worse if you hadn't done what you did.”

 

“What about the non-shifters?”

 

“Gone too. Not the pups but their parents.”

 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled. “Is everyone at least alive? For the love of god, tell me everyone is alive.”

 

“As far as we know, everyone is alive,” he answered.

 

“What about my dad?” Stiles asked, feeling guilty but desperately needing to know.

 

“He's fine, and he's here,” Derek answered. Stiles relaxed a little against Derek and sighed.

 

“I should get up and help,” Stiles said. He shifted but Derek tightened his arms around him, stopping him from moving.

 

“Everyone is sleeping,” Derek answered. “Lots of people in rooms, and down in the living room. I don't think there is a spare seat in the house right now. No one wanted to be apart, but everyone is resting right now. Alpha's orders.” Stiles nodded his head slowly and settled back against Derek. The house was silent around them, except for soft snoring and other hushed conversations that Stiles couldn't hear. Talia was the only one not trying or pretending to sleep, but Stiles didn't know that she was locked in her office desperate to figure out what to do.

 

When morning came, Stiles was the first person awake, but the others soon woke up to the sound of movement. Most of the pack looked tired and some even looked panicked. The mood was still sombre, and Stiles didn't think it would go back to normal until they found the rest of the pack, and could move on. Stiles wanted to help the pack move on. A few people made breakfast for an army, while others gathered all the dishes they could find. It was quiet, but everyone was keeping themselves busy. They were halfway through eating when a car pulled into the driveway.

 

Everyone froze, listening as someone got out of the car and walked up to the front door. First, the person tried the door handle, and when that didn't work, they knocked. Three sharp, loud knocks that Stiles could feel in his bones. Talia went to the door, and Stiles followed behind her. She yanked the door open, revealing Sam standing covered in blood. His eyes were still clouded, and he swayed back and forth on the spot. Talia stared at her old child for a minute, before she noticed that he was holding a plastic shopping bag. It was half full of what looked like meat, dripping blood from a hole in the bottom of the bag. “Sam,” she said, her voice wavering as she did.

 

“Sorry we're late, mum,” he said and took a step toward her. Talia planted her feet and shook her head.

 

“Sam, what happened?” she asked. Stiles could feel panic from all around him, the rest of the pack silently listening to what was going on. Sam blinked a few times, then lifted the bag up, and held it out to Talia.

 

“Apollo said it wasn't his first pick, but you guys really messed it up. He said he'll be back later for the right one,” Sam answered, and dropped the bag from his hand. It hit the ground with a wet thump, and then slowly fell open. Stiles grabbed Talia by the shoulders.

 

“Let me,” he said, and after a second of hesitation, she moved out of the way. Stiles stepped around her, and then reached out for Sam first. He pulled the other man into the front hallway, putting him between himself and Talia. Then he grabbed his arm, and after a minute forced the control out of Sam's mind. It was harder this time, he wasn't sure if it was because he had used so much power yesterday, or if the adrenaline of everything had made it easier. It took a few seconds for Sam to come back to himself, but then he started screaming.

 

Others had come into the hallway and when Sam collapsed he was easily caught and taken into the living room. “Don't open it! Don't open it! Oh my god, oh my god! I'm sorry! Oh my god, I'm sorry!” Sam shrieked as he was moved. Stiles turned back to the door, the plastic bag on the porch, and so did Talia. Stiles knew, even without looking, that it was the remains of a pack member inside the bag. It would be the things that Apollo hadn't wanted this time, and it terrified Stiles. He knelt down in front of the bag, carefully lifting it open more, on top of the bloody mess was a wallet.

 

Stiles reached in and pulled the wallet free. As he started to open it, something fell from the wallet and hit the ground. He heard it bounce with a metallic thump, and then it rolled behind him. He turned to see what it was, but Talia already had it in her hand. “Oh my god,” she mumbled, and Stiles saw it. A perfectly clean wedding band sparkled between Talia's fingers. “Oh my god,” she said again, her voice cracking as she spoke. Stiles turned back to the wallet, yanked it open, and stared down at a picture of Talia when she was young, with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner of the photo.

 

“Matthew,” Stiles whispered. No one heard him because Talia let out a loud sob, then threw her head back, and howled until her voice cut out. Then she took a deep breath and did it all over again, howling out her pain, loss, and any other emotion she could force out of her. Sam was still screaming in the living room, and now other people were crying. Stiles didn't move from the spot he was kneeling, staring down at the photo and shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	16. Chapter 16

They buried what was left of Matthew later that day, behind a gazebo at the edge of the Hale compound. Derek's father had built it when he first moved here to be with Talia, it was a place for the two of them to go. To get away from taking care of screaming children, pack business, and just be alone together. They had gotten married in front of the gazebo, and at least once a week since then, they had gone there together. “We'll move him to the family plot when I die, until then, I still want to be able to be near him,” Talia had said after letting them know where he would be buried.

Sam had refused to leave his bedroom, insisting that he wasn't welcome at the burial. One of their cousins stayed with him, watching the service through the bedroom window. Sam hadn't told them what had happened yet, but he had barely stopped crying, and Derek had a feeling he knew anyway. The pack took turns sitting with Sam, letting him cry and scream, and then be silent. It was dinner when Derek offered to sit with him, Aliya came downstairs, looking tired and upset. “He hasn't said anything the whole time,” she told Talia.

“We'll help him through it,” Talia answered. Someone had gone to get pizzas for everyone since no one had the energy to cook themselves.

“I'll go up next,” Derek said, grabbing a plate and a slice of pizza for Sam. He hadn't eaten anything yet, but they kept bringing him food anyway.

“Thank you,” Talia said softly. He was halfway up the stairs when he realised that Sam's bedroom door was closed. He ran up the rest of the stairs, straining to hear his brother. He heard a hiccupping breath, and then the sound of a bullet entering a chamber. Derek dropped the plate, grabbed at the handle to the door. It turned a quarter of an inch, and then clicked against the lock.

“Sam!” Derek shouted, and slammed himself against the door. He could hear crying again and muttered words from insides. Derek slammed himself against the door again, until the wood gave and he fell into the room. He jumped at Sam, grabbing the gun as it fired. The bullet missed its mark and tore through Sam's shoulder instead.

“No!” he screamed, but he collapsed back against his bed without any fight. Everyone was at the door a second later, and Talia rushed into the room.

“Stiles!” she shouted. “Stiles come quickly!” Derek held Sam, he threw the gun to the ground and pressed blanket to Sam's shoulder. Stiles was there seconds later, pulling Derek back, and helping Sam sit up.

“Rough night,” Stiles mumbled, and Sam laughed. At first just a hiccuping mess of a noise, but it started to roll out of him frantically and manic. “Space please,” Stiles snapped. Everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving Stiles, Talia, and Derek with him. Derek helped keep Sam sitting up, holding up his weight like it was nothing. The laughter died out slowly, going back to sobbing and swearing. Stiles checked his wound, and Derek watched his brother's face, it was when Stiles grabbed for gauze that Derek said anything.

“Sam... what happened?”

“Derek,” Talia said softly, but he could tell she wanted to know too. Sam's eyes darted to his mother's face and stared at her.

“I can't,” he mumbled. Derek turned to look at his mother, then back to his brother, who he could tell needed to say something.

“Can you go too, mum?” Derek asked. Talia turned to him like she was going to argue, but she seemed to understand. She got to her feet and slowly moved away from them.

“We'll be fine, Alpha,” Stiles said, nodding at her.

“Come get me... if you need me,” she mumbled and slipped out of the room. The door clicked softly closed, and Derek turned back to Sam.

“What happened?”

“You'll hate me,” Sam said, choking on a sob.

“You never hated me,” Derek said.

“You never did anything wrong, Der,” Sam answered.

“But, I felt like I did...”

“I kill him, Derek,” Sam whispered. Derek was sure their mother was on the other side of the door listening, and he could tell Sam knew it too. “I skinned him alive, I cut him up with a silver dagger, and—and he told me it was okay. He barely made any noise, he just told me it was okay and he loved me. He was in so much pain it broke Apollo's control over him, and he cried but he didn't get upset. Oh my god, Derek, I can still hear him.

A-and when, when I was done, Apollo told me to take what was left and put it in a bag. Then for the two of us to go home. He wanted me to stab mum when I got home too. I killed him, Derek, I killed Dad. Oh my god, I wanted to kill mum. I wanted to do everything he told me to. Like, making him happy was what I had to do. I wanted him to be happy, Derek. You have to let me die, Derek, I can't—I can't keep looking into the mirror and seeing myself. Seeing a murderer who looks so much like Dad, I saw myself in the mirror when Aliya left the room.” Sam paused and choked on another sob, and then shook his head. “I thought it was him, Derek, I thought that he was there for a second!”

Sam's sobs came louder then, and he couldn't force out any more words. Derek knew the situation was different, but the guilt he had felt when Kate was there, had been all consuming without any deaths. He couldn't imagine what was happening to Sam right now. Stiles moved away from Sam, glancing at Derek and offering a small smile. “You're fine now Sam,” he said, “I'll head downstairs. Call me if anything hurts.” Derek nodded and when Stiles was out of the room, Derek shifted into wolf form. He curled up against Sam's side, letting his brother dig his hands into his fur and sob against him.

They had done this when they were children when thunderstorms rolled overhead, and Sam didn't want to bother his parents. Derek knew that Sam was scared so one night he shifted, slipped down the hallways, and crawled into bed next to him. Derek had lied and told Sam that he was scared of the thunder, and wanted to feel safer. Sam had smiled at him and promised he could always hide with him. Now, it was something else, a sense of safety that they both desperately wanted.

*********

Stiles went to Talia's office, where she had hurried off to once she heard what happened. Stiles knocked on the door and waited until she cracked it open. “I'd like to talk,” he said softly. “I'm alone,” he added. Talia opened the door and let Stiles inside. When the door closed behind him, the sounds of the house vanished behind the soundproofing.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We need to talk about what happened to me,” he said. “Because you're my Alpha and you need to know. And, I know you want to mourn, and I really want to leave you alone so you can. But, we're going to lose more people to Apollo if we don't do something now.”

“Sit down,” she said, as she took her own seat. Stiles took the seat across from her, and then told her everything. He tried to explain it the best he could, but knew it wasn't making much sense.

“It was real, Talia. And when I got back I had more power then I knew what to do with, but it's faded now. And, I know I'm going to have to keep training to ever do anything like that again. We need to take as many members of the pack as we can because I'm not strong enough to do this alone.”

“Is all of this because you're descendent of a god? Every that's happened with these people? Did they come here for you?” she asked.

“I don't know, I don't think so. He wanted to kill a Hale specifically... first Peter, and then Derek,” Stiles said.

“So Matthew wasn't even what he wanted...” she mumbled and then dropped her head into her hands. Talia sobbed softly and Stiles felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He noticed as he sat there, that there was writing on Talia's arms. The words 'I love you' written over and over, with desperate messy letters. Some of them were smudged like she hadn't given the ink enough time to dry before she moved on to write it again.

Stiles had never seen Talia fall apart before, and watching her now made his chest ache. He didn't know what to do, but he was sure that it was going to be messy. “Tomorrow morning,” Stiles said suddenly, “I'll have more information for you.” Talia looked at him and nodded slowly. Stiles got to his feet and left her alone to cry. Stiles stood in the hallway of the house, listening to the others milling around, talking quietly to each other, and trying to find comfort.

After a few minutes, he went to the kitchen, gathered some cleaning supplies and headed to the front porch. Matthew's blood was still there, left to dry through the day, and soak deeper into the wood. He covered the blood on the deck with baking soda, and the blood on the sidewalk and driveway in a layer of sodium peroxide powder. As the peroxide sat, he went back to the deck and took a vinegar soaked scrub brush to the wood. He worked until long after the sun had set, and the house was going dark. Lydia came outside at one point, and sat with him after her offer to help was rejected. “I'm going to do the car next,” Stiles said, as he used the vinegar to clean away any more of the peroxide, and then dumped a bucket of water over everything.

“You should sleep, Stiles,” Lydia said softly. “I'm sure Derek would rather have you with him.”

“He's going to spend the night with Sam,” Stiles answered. “Plus, I'm never going to fall asleep.”

“I wish you'd try,” she said, as she got to her feet.

“I will later, Lyds,” he answered.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” she said and went back inside. The door clicked closed, and Stiles pulled open the car door. There was less blood inside the car then he had been expecting. A pool of it soaked into a jacket that was left on the passenger seat, and there were a few drops across the middle console and the driver's seat. Stiles grabbed the jacket and stuffed it into the bucket he had originally had the water in. He knew it was Sam's jacket, but Stiles was confident that he wouldn't want it back now.

It was harder to get the blood out of the car. Getting into the car comfortably and actually scrubbing the blood out of the upholstery took Stiles well into the night. The lights of the house were almost all off, the pack having found places to curl together and sleep. When Stiles finished, he headed back inside, where he found his dad sitting in the kitchen with two beers and reheated pizza. “Done?” he asked when Stiles walked into the room.

“For now,” he answered. “I have a lot of problems with what is going on here.” Stiles gestured to his father's food, but John just shook his head.

“Half of it's for you,” he said.

“That only makes me 50% less upset,” Stiles answered, but took a seat next to his dad. John cracked open the second beer and passed it to Stiles, who chugged half the bottle as soon as he had it to his lips.

“Stiles,” his dad said, so Stiles pulled the bottle from his lips and grinned a little.

“Yes?”

“You're blaming yourself for this, and it's not your fault,” he said.

“What makes you think that?”

“If you think that, after all these years, I can't tell when my son is doing something stupid... then you're even stupider than I thought,” John answered. Stiles huffed out a laugh, and then shrugged his shoulders.

“That's fair,” he said and took another swig of beer. “I just don't know what to do.” John hesitated, taking a breath and then a swig of his own beer.

“Have you tried scrying?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your mother was good at it,” John answered. Stiles remember that he remembered sitting in the back garden on a warm summer day, silently watching her.

“She once used it and caught you cheating on your diet,” Stiles said, and John laughed.

“I remember the phone call,” John answered. “I could hear you giggling, she asked why I was at the bakery. You said, something about me weighing a million pounds if I kept at it.”

“She was showing me how to scry... and I wanted to find you,” Stiles answered smiling a little at the memory. “I wonder if she knew about her bloodline.”

“What do you mean?” John asked, and Stiles remembered that only Talia knew what had happened.

“I'll explain once things have settled down,” Stiles answered.

“Okay,” John said.

“I haven't done any scrying since then,” Stiles said.

“I have a feeling that won't matter much,” John said.

“Thanks, dad, I'll try it,” Stiles said. They sat together, ate the pizza, and finished their beers. Then John got to his feet and patted Stiles on the shoulder, before going off to wherever he was sleeping. Stiles remembered that there was a box of his mother's magic items back home, in the corner of his bedroom, unopened and covered in clothing. He figured that if he was going to do this, he wanted her with him somehow. So, he grabbed his jacket and drove home. The house seemed colder than it normally was, but after checking for any intruders, Stiles ignored it and went to his room.

His father had given him the box years ago, when Stiles powers had first manifested, but at the time Stiles hadn't been able to bring himself to look inside. Now it was easy. He tossed the clothing on the floor and used a dagger he carried to cut open the tape on the box. The box was mostly filled with jars of spell ingredients, and Stiles wondered if any of them were still useful. There were a few small books, as well as a leather bound journal that made Stiles' heart skip a beat. He started at it for a moment, before deciding now wasn't the time. There were crystals, a crystal bowl, a black mirror, and some candles in the bottom of the box.

He transferred them to a bag, and after another moment of looking at the journal, he headed back to the Hale compound. Part of him wanted to stay at the house, go to the backyard and sit where his mother had. But, he knew that it would be more distracting there, and being with the pack would help ground him. When he got back, all the lights in the house were off, and everything felt calm. Stiles headed out behind the main house and decided to set up in the middle of the backyard.

He set out the candles first, setting them around him, and then lighting them. Next, he placed the bowl on the ground, and carefully arranged five stones in the bottom of it. “Carnelian for concentration, selenite to stabilise thoughts, fluorite for minimising mental chaos, unakite to balance emotions, and obsidian for clarity,” he muttered, as he went. He filled the bowl with rain water that they had collected out beside the house, and then after he checked everything over once he lit a stick of incense. He sat cross-legged on the ground and took a deep breath. The water's surface reflected the sky at him, which he thought was a good thing.

After a few minutes, he focused on the obsidian he had placed in the middle of the bowl, and let his mind drift to thoughts of the missing pack members. He didn't know how long he sat there, waiting and breathing but nothing came to mind. He found the energies of the stones, but he couldn't make a connection with it. Finally, he broke his concentration, groaned and fell back onto the grass. It was then he realised someone else had come out of the house. He jumped, when he noticed them, but relaxed when he realised it was just one of the pups. “What are you doing out of bed, Sana?” Stiles asked, looking at the little girl.

She shifted from one foot to the other, then walked over to him, and sat down at his side. She was in her pyjamas, with her stuffed dog in her arms, and she looked uncomfortable. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy braid, and she was tugging at the end of it. “I miss my parents,” she answered, and then started to bite her lower lip.

“We'll find them,” Stiles answered. Sana nodded her head, but she looked unconvinced, and he couldn't blame her.

“Do you think grandma is gonna be okay?” she asked, after a minute.

“Why do you think your grandma isn't okay?” he asked. She turned to look down at him and frowned. Part of him felt like laughing because she looked so much like Laura when she frowned, but instead, he worried.

“Grandpa is dead, Sam is hurt, and the pack is all broken up,” she said. She sounded so much older then she was in that moment like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and no one to relieve the stress. “She's been cryin' a lot in her office.”

“Does she know, that you've seen her crying?” Stiles asked.

“No, but we all know she is,” Sana answered.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping?” Stiles asked her, and she huffed at him.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping?” she said back at him.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Well then, maybe, me too,” Sana said, and then she looked back down at him. “Stiles, why aren't you funny anymore?”

“What?” Stiles asked, laughing a little at the question.

“Ever since you and Derek started dating, you've been all serious. Just like Derek,” she said.

“It's just time to be serious right now,” Stiles told her. She frowned a little and thought about his answer. She shrugged and then nodded her head.

“I guess so, but I miss when you were funny all day,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

“What are you doing anyway?” she asked, reaching out toward the bowl. Stiles sat up, as she dipped her into the water, and made the water ripple.

“It's called scrying,” he said. “It's so I can see hidden things.”

“Like mum and dad?”

“Like your mum and dad.”

“Have you found them yet?”

“Not yet,” he said slowly, “I'm having trouble finding them.”

“Oh... can I help?” she asked. Stiles looked at her and then wondered if she could make it easier for him.

“Yeah... I need some of your hair,” he said. She looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows.

“My hair?”

“It will help, I promise,” he said.

“How much hair?” she asked, pulling at her braid.

“Just a little,” he answered, “can you cut some off for me? There are scissors in my bag over there.” Sana climbed to her feet and went to his bag. He adjusted how he was sitting again, moving over a little so Sana could sit down next to him. He heard the scissors open, and then after a second the sound of her cutting away at her hair. Stiles turned to her when he realised she kept cutting, then she came over to him. She held out her braid, the strands untwisted and falling lose as she did.

“Maybe more, will make it easier,” she said, with the confidence that could only belong to a child.

“I bet it will,” he answered. “Do you wanna sit with me?”

“Yes please,” she said and settled back down next to him.

“You're gonna have to be still and silent, okay?” Stiles said. She turned to look at him and frowned at him again. He smiled at her, but she kept frowning.

“You're telling me to be still and silent?” she asked, and then rolled her eyes. “I don't think you know what those words even mean.” Stiles laughed loudly and then clapped his free hand over his mouth.

“Okay,” he said a second later. “Okay, smarty pants.” Stiles looked at her, raised his eyebrows, and snapped his fingers together a few times. A ball of light popped into existence, and Sana gasped, looking excited now. Then, Stiles spun his hand around the ball, and it became a flame. He let it hover in the air in front of him, as he pulled part of the braid free, then he set it on fire. The smell of burning hair filled the air, making Sana cover the bottom of her face, and making Stiles wish he could do the same.

The hair burned quickly, the ashes drifted down, coating the surface of the water in the bowl. When the hair was gone, Stiles snuffed out the flame, and then put his hands in his lap. He carefully intertwined his fingers and stared into the murky water. The visions started slowly then, as colours and shapes. Things that meant something, he just didn't know what it was yet. There was a pulse of energy around him, and then he recognised something. It was a mile marker outside of town, then there was another one and another one. They flashed by in quick succession, getting farther and farther away from Beacon Hills.

Then he could hear talking, Apollo's voice filled his head. _“Guess it's time to Get the hell out of Dodge.”_

_“You're taking these ones as well?” Artemis asked._

_“Yes. I still need to kill one of them.”_

_“Will it even work?” Artemis asked._

_“I don't know, but I'm not going to stop,” Apollo answered._

_“Kill the daughter then,” Artemis said._

_“Probably,” Apollo answered._

It flickered away and was replaced by an image of Laura sitting in a warehouse. She was on the ground, on her knees, her head bowed against her chest. She wasn't wearing actual clothing but was wrapped in a blanket, covering her body. He realised a second later, there were more people behind her. Some of them were pack members, others were people Stiles didn't recognise. Some, like Laura, were wrapped in blankets instead of clothing. Stiles decided that that meant they were shifters. They were silent, sitting in rows on the ground, like children at a school assembly. The image didn't last, instead it was like it caught fire and burned away in front of his eyes.

The last thing he saw was the moon, full and bright in the sky, lighting up the world and a huge parking lot. Stiles could hear music playing, soft Calliope music drifting through the air, quietly being tested by an unseen person. There was the smell of cotton candy, warm buttery popcorn, and a sense of dread that Stiles couldn't explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might seem like a weird place to be going, but it's always been the plan.
> 
> Also, do you guys like the chapters with both POVs? I think it's better because it makes for longer chapters... but how do you guys feel about it?


	17. Chapter 17

“I thought you two grew out of this,” Cora said as she came into Sam's bedroom. Derek woofed at her as Sam shifted and then sighed. 

 

“You're right, it's dumb,” Sam mumbled, making Cora sighed and shook her head. 

 

“I'm just teasing, Sam. If it helps, then it's good,” she said. “I have breakfast for you, and I thought I'd sit with you for a while. If you're okay with that.”  Sam glanced at Derek, who had sat up and was looking at him. He hadn't shifted back yet but figured that Sam would let him know if he still needed him. 

 

“ Yeah, okay,” Sam managed to say. “You probably need a break anyway.” Derek huffed and then bumped Sam with his head. 

 

“We want to spend time with you, you know that right?” Cora said. Sam looked at her for a minute and then slowly nodded his head.

 

“ Thanks,” he mumbled,  but his voice cracked as he spoke.  Cora gestured for Derek to get off the bed, and then she took his spot.  Derek grabbed his clothing in his mouth, and after a moment of hesitation, he headed to his own room.  He shifted back, took a shower, and then got dressed before he went to find where Stiles had gone. 

 

He found him in the kitchen with his mother and a few other pack members. Lydia had her laptop open and was typing.  Derek noticed Sana standing beside Stiles, her hair cut to chin length, and she was holding his hand. “ Morning Derek,” Erica said, offering him a cup of coffee. 

 

“ Morning,” he answered, and then caught Sana's eye. “What happened to you r hair?” he asked. 

 

“Erica fixed it!” she answered, “I cut it all off last night!”

 

“Why'd you do that?”

 

“To help Stiles with a spell,” she said.

 

“We used it to help me scry,” Stiles said.

 

“ I cut off my braid and Stiles set it on fire! Then he saw mum!” 

 

“You saw Laura?” Derek asked, and Stiles nodded. “Where?”

 

“She's in a warehouse... at a carnival?” he said sounding unsure.

 

“ A carnival?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“ Look, I didn't say it makes sense, but where else do you regularly hear The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down?” Stiles asked. 

 

“I don't know what that is,” Derek said.

 

“You know,” Stiles said. He started to hum the song at an almost frantic pace.

 

“ The Looney Tunes song?” Sana asked. 

 

“ Yeah! Yeah,” Stiles said, “but, slow and creepy.” 

 

“ Oh good,” Erica mumbled, as she wandered out of the kitchen.

 

“ It's a starting point,” Talia said, from beside Lydia. 

 

“ We are looking for carnivals nearby since Stiles doesn't think they would have gone too far,” Lydia said. 

 

“ Are there many carnivals in California?” Derek asked. 

 

“Not really, they can be booked pretty easily,” Lydia said. Sana fidgeted next to Stiles and after a minute, she yanked on his hand.

 

“Stiles...” she mumbled, and he looked down at her. “You'll find them right?” she asked.

 

“Yeah—”

 

“Even if they're dead?” she interrupted. Everyone in the room turned to her, but she just looked at Stiles.

 

“Geez, Smarty Pants,” Stiles said and dragged her up into his lap. “Of course we'll find 'em. No matter what.” Sana smiled at him, but her eyebrows were scrunched together, and she looked sad.

 

“Thank you,” she said and hugged him.  Stiles wrapped his arms around her and tried to pretend like he didn't notice that she had started to cry.

 

“The Sun and Moon Cabinet of Curiosities,”  Lydia said suddenly, taking the attention off the girl. “ It's a travelling carnival that offered new and exciting supernatural attractions every time they open.” 

 

“ That sounds awesome,” Stiles mumbled sarcastically.

 

“ When is it open?” Derek asked, walking around the table. 

 

“Next week,” Lydia answered.

 

“ Mom's gonna perform?” Sana asked after a minute, hiccupping as she did. 

 

“Maybe...” Stiles answered,  rubbing circles on her back. 

 

“ Can we go see her?” she asked.

 

“Not this time, sweetie,” Talia said. “ We'll go get her, you've got to stay home.” Sana looked over at her Grandmother and frowned at her. Looking serious and sad at the same time. 

 

“ But, maybe she'll come back for me,” Sana said.

 

“But who will take care of Travis, if you aren't home?” Talia asked. The look on Sana's face changed like she was just remembering her brother.

 

“Okay,” she said and nodded. “I'll protect him.”

 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Talia said and smiled.  Derek took a deep breath, as he watched his mother turn back to the computer monitor. She looked tired like she hadn't slept at all since they got back. When she shifted, he could see words on his arms, mostly hidden by long sleeves.

 

“Do you guys need anything?” Derek asked.

 

“No, we're fine,” Talia said.

 

“I'm gonna go out back then,” he said and left the room. He made his way through the backyard and out to the place where his father was buried. His uncle Stephen was already there when he arrived, standing over his brother's grave looking sad and angry all at once. Derek didn't say anything to him, just slipped into the space beside him and waited. Stephen was a quiet man, his dad's side of the family always had been. When Derek's paternal grandfather died, his pack was left without an Alpha, so they came and joined the Hale's. Derek's parents thought it was because his dad had been next in line to be Alpha, but when it was finally his turn, he had already taken Talia as his Alpha. They stood in silence together, both thinking about the man, and feeling comforted by the other. 

 

“I'm going to make him a grave marker,” Stephen finally said. 

 

“What kind?”

 

“Something small, with his name on it. Your mother could live a long time. We don't want to forget where he is,” Stephen said. He was trying to make it sound lighthearted, but it didn't sound that way.

 

“I think that's a good idea,” Derek mumbled.  Derek glanced at his uncle, who he knew was against his father being  buried here,  but hadn't really argued against his Alpha.  Stephen had lost his soulmate when they were younger, she had been in a car accident. He had lost her  but their son had survived the crash.  He had  _ “ten minutes late dinner please,”  _ tattooed on his forearm. It had been the last thing she had written, and he refused to let it fade away.  Derek couldn't help but wonder what the last thing his father had written to his mother  was . 

 

“ She'll be okay in the end,” Stephen said softly. “ She won't be okay for a long time, but in the end, she will be.” 

 

“I know,” Derek said, but he didn't feel confident with his answer.

 

“Hopefully this will all be over soon, and you can be with your soulmate properly,” Stephen said. He patted Derek on the shoulder before he headed back to the main house.  Derek waited for him to be inside before he settled down on the ground.  He rested his back against the gazebo and stared off into the trees. He had always liked sitting with his dad and watched the world go by.  This wasn't the same, but it was as close as he could get  now.

 

Derek wanted to be more upset than he was, but it was hard to be. The smell of magic had been so strong that they couldn't really smell who the remains belonged to. If it weren't for Sam, Derek wasn't even sure he'd really believe his father was dead. Maybe, once the pack was back it would become real to him. Maybe once all the craziness was over, he could mourn. Or maybe, they would all die and it wouldn't matter anyway. Derek felt the tingling sensation on his arm, looking down at it, as the words appeared. _'You okay?'_ Derek felt his heart leap into his throat when he saw the words, he had been afraid that whatever had happened to Stiles, might have broken their connection. But the words were there and it made Derek want to cry. Derek dug his phone out of his pocket and messaged Stiles. 

 

_ 'I'm not sure' _

 

_'Want company?'_

 

_'If it's only you.'_

 

Stiles arrived a few minutes later, hands in his jean po ckets, and a small smile on his face. “Wanna go for a walk? Or just sit here?” he asked. “I don't want to interrupt you.” Derek huffed a little and shook his head as he got to his feet. 

 

“He's not going anywhere,” he said.

 

“Ouch,” Stiles said, but then held his hand out to Derek. It was strange with Stiles in front of him, he felt so much better.  He reached out and grabbed Stiles hand as he got to his feet. Then they made they're way into the forest. 

 

“ Is it safe out here?” Derek asked.

 

“I'm pretty sure I can handle it,” Stiles said, wiggling the fingers on his free hand.

 

“ You feel different now,”  Derek said.

 

“I've been told,” Stiles answered. “Erica told me I smell more like cinnamon than I use to but Scott said it was more citrus.”

 

“I c an't smell  either of those on you ,” Derek said.  Stiles smiled at him, looking oddly carefree walking next to him. “ It's like your vibrating all the time now... and your presence is... more.”

 

“ I've always wanted to be more,” Stiles said. Derek slowed their walking until they had stopped, then he turned to face Stiles. He looked confused now, and a little worried, but didn't say anything. He just let Derek look him over. “What happened to you?” Derek could still picture Stiles on the ground covered in blood, broken and torn apart. He could still feel the echo of loss he had felt when Stiles  was gone . 

 

“ After I died?” he asked. 

 

“Yes,” Derek answered, sounding desperate. So, Stiles explained walking through purgatory and meeting gods. He explained what he was and that he was pretty sure he was going to keep taking Hecate's powers. He didn't know if that meant she would die, or if it meant that she would just no longer be in charge of those things. He didn't know if he would suddenly have weird god responsibilities or if it was okay to just keep doing what he was doing. 

 

“I don't really know anything,” Stiles said, finishing his rambling.

 

“ You're a god...” Derek mumbled, staring at Stiles.

 

“Well, kind of,” he  answered. “ I feel like I should make a joke about this, but I don't have  it in me  right now.”

 

“I don't even know what kind of joke you could make,” Derek answered.

 

“ A sexual one... you know, god in the sheets and streets type thing,” Stiles said, flipping his hand around in front of him.

 

“ One of those,” Derek said and rolled his eyes.  Stiles smiled at him, but  the smile was strained and there was fear and worry in Stiles' eyes . 

 

“I'm scared, Derek,” he said softly. “I'm scared I'm going to grab this power too quickly and I'm going to explode.”  Derek took both of Stiles' hands in his and held them tightly. He could feel a tremble running through Stiles,  and wanted to stop it.  Stiles tightened his hands around Derek's like he wanted to ground himself just as badly.

 

“ You're going to be fine,” Derek said.

 

“What if someone else dies, Derek?” he asked, “what if it's you? I watched my dad lose my mum, and he's stronger than me.  H alf the pack is gone  now , my dad won't stop drinking, and Scott just wants to rush into battle.  And I love Melissa, I don't want to lose her, and I don't want my dad to lose her even more than that. I've barely even had time to be part of the pack, I gotta fix this. ”

 

“Hey,” Derek said sternly. “I guess I don't know if things will be fine, but I hope they will be. And, I'm glad that you're here.”

 

“You're sappy,” Stiles mumbled  and relaxed a little.

 

“I could stop,” Derek answered, but Stiles shook his head. Stiles moved forward,  pulling his hands away from Derek as he did, and then warped his arms around  his neck .  He dragged him into a kiss,  it was frantic and desperate, and all the things it had never been before. Derek remembered thinking about how much time they had, how many years they had to be together, but now it seemed wrong.  It felt like they were racing toward the end of the world, and they already had no time left. He felt a different kind of urgency now, wanting to spend every second they had together.  He wanted to learn everything about Stiles and he wanted to learn it now.  Stiles broke their kiss, yanked back, and look at him with wide eyes. 

 

“I know a really quiet spot on this trail, I bet you'd like it there,” Stiles said. 

 

“ Show me,” Derek said, trying to keep himself from growling his answer.  Stiles untangled himself from Derek, grabbed his hand, and dragged him deeper into the woods. 

 

 

****** ***

 

[Smut is over here, because not everyone signed up for it.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10433880)

 

 

****** ***

 

Stiles stared at the  roof of the cave, breathing slowly. He folded one of his arms under his head and wrapped the other around Derek. He let out a long breath and Derek huffed at him. Derek was lying against Stiles side, his head resting on Stiles' chest, listening to Stiles heart pound. “Geez, ” Stiles mumbles. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Just... geez,” He said and Derek laughed softly. He tightened his arms around Stiles and pressed himself closer. The ground was cold under them, but not uncomfortable. “I can't believe we did that in a cave...”

 

“It could have been worse. We could have tried at the compound,” Derek answered, and Stiles baulked at him.

 

“You couldn't pay me,” Stiles muttered. He wanted to keep living in that moment, but he could feel the real world panic seeping back into his bones. They didn't say anything else to each other for a long time, just lay in the cave and listened to the world outside. They really should go back to the house, and start helping with the planning, but in the moment Stiles didn't want to. He wondered how hard it would be to stop time, he had seen spells for it, but he knew they weren't really safe to use. He knew that messing with time, was dangerous. Derek moved first, twisting against Stiles and sitting up. Stiles felt, what Derek heard, a howl echoing through the trees. Talia was calling everyone home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know this is getting out of hand for a story I never planned to write.


	18. Chapter 18

They split the pack in half a second time, this time by choice, making some people stay behind to care for the children and the grounds. Derek sat in the living room listening to his mother argue with different members of the pack. She wanted to convince them to stay, instead of ordering them to, but Derek knew she would have to give that up soon, or they would never get anything done. The pack didn't normally disagree with her, but ever since Apollo's control had been removed, the pack felt broken. The connection to each other was weaker then it should have been, there were doubts about her ability to lead and her judgement. She was distracted by Matthew's death, and seemed more worried about Sam's health then the rest of the pack at that moment. Derek thought it was because she had been so wrong about who she let in. He thought that she was embarrassed and hating herself for what had happened.

 

“You expect me to stay here, while my son is off doing who knows what?” Stephen shouted suddenly.

 

“I need stronger pack members—”

 

“No! You don't want me there because every time you look at me you think of Matthew! It's the same reason you haven't actually watched Sam since he got back! You can't bare to look at him!”

 

“Stephen—”

 

“No! This is another stupid choice you're making, Talia,” he snapped.

 

“You're just as emotional about this, as I am!” she shouted at him. “I am trying to do what's right for the pack now! I know that I fucked up, but I can't fix it if everyone keeps fighting me on it!”

 

Derek looked at Erica and Boyd, who were curled together on the other couch, staring at their laps. They had already been told they were to stay behind, and Derek knew they were angry about it too.

 

“Of course I am! But, at least I'm doing something about it! I'm not spending every night sobbing over something I can't fix. What the hell happened to you, Talia? You're meant to be the Alpha of one of the biggest packs in North America! Why are you so weak all of the sudden?”

 

“You fell apart when Amy died!” she shouted, “you couldn't get out of bed for weeks! I never forced you to move on, I never stopped you from mourning. That's what I'm doing, Stephen! I'm mourning, and I'm weak from it. I'm weak because my pack is separated! I'm weak because the connection is broken and needs to be fixed. I'm weak because members of the pack, like you, don't trust me anymore!”

 

“You can't blame us for your carelessness, Talia!”

 

“Stop it!” someone shouted, and everything around Derek went silent. The words vibrated through the house, the way that Talia's voice did when she ordered them to listen. It wasn't until he looked over at Erica and Boyd a second time, that he realised he was the one who had shouted. Different pack members appeared from around corners, looking confused and alarmed.

 

“How did you do that?” Erica whispered.

 

“I don't know,” Derek answered, and slowly got to his feet.

 

“Derek?” Talia asked softly, as she came across the room to him. “Derek, flash your eyes for me.” He stared at his mother for a second, feeling terrified of what was about to happen, and then did as she asked. His eyes flashed but they were the same as always.

 

“I think you should go find Stiles,” Boyd said from behind him, and Derek nodded.

 

“Yeah, I-I'll go help him,” he answered. He rushed past the pack and out the back door. He ignored the people who called after him and hurried off into the compound. He dug out his phone and sent Stiles a message. _'Where are you?'_

 

 _'Greenhouse.'_ Came back a minute later, so he turned around and headed toward the greenhouse. He found Issac standing just outside the door, with a box full of plants in his arms, and his shirt pulled up over his nose.

 

“Do you really need all this?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Stiles answered, coming out and dropping another jar into the box. Then he was back into the greenhouse and Issac was groaning. He noticed Derek first and raised his eyebrows to try and show that he was smiling under his shirt.

 

“Hey,” Issac said and shifted from one foot to the other.

 

“What are you two doing?” Derek asked.

 

“Stiles says he's going to protect the compound,” Issac answered. Derek glanced through the doors and watched Stiles hurry from one side of the room to the other. Stiles came back out of the greenhouse, gave Derek a quick, distracted kiss on the check and then started off toward the forest. After a minute, he turned back to them.

 

“Come on!” he shouted. Issac groaned and started to trudge after Stiles, dragging his feet like this was the worst burden. Derek followed, watching Stiles as he flitted from one tree to another, placing his hand on the bark and then moving on. It took almost five minutes before he waved Issac over to him. “This one's perfect,” he said and dug into the box.

 

“Stiles?” Issac asked, but Stiles didn't seem to notice. Stiles pulled out a half full spray bottle, unscrewed the sprayer, and then dumped a baggie of dried green plant into the bottle. He screwed it shut again, shook the bottle vigorously, and then went back to the tree. He stopped for a second to dig a piece of chalk out of his bag and then started drawing sigils onto the bark of the tree. “I have no idea what you're doing.”

 

“Good, good,” Stiles mumbled, as he shook the bottle again. He started spraying the mixture over the sigil he had drawn. After a few sprays, it lit up, glowed for a second before it faded away without a mark.

 

“Do you know what you're doing?” Issac snapped, as Stiles started back in on touching tree after tree.

 

“Mhmm,” Stiles said, seeming to be having a different conversation from the one Issac was trying to have.

 

“You're not even listening to me, you ass,” Issac said.

 

“Yeah, that's great. Can you come here?” Stiles said, waving his hand at Issac. He walked over to Stiles and thrust the box toward him. Stiles dug into again, pulled out a bundle of twine, and then waved his hand for Issac to go away again.

 

“Want me to take over?” Derek asked, holding his hands out to take the box.

 

“Yes, I want to find out if I'm offence or defences for the rescue,” he said, and shoved the box into Derek's hands. Then he was running back to the main house, without waiting for Derek to say anything else. So, Derek went back to following Stiles, who didn't even seem to realize that Issac was gone. He just kept walking awkwardly through the trees, he seemed to be checking the trees for something that Derek couldn't see. He was looking for specific ones to make with sigils, while he wrapped twine around other tree, that seemed to disappoint him. They made their way from the edge of the forest all the way to the front of the property. Stiles seeming more frustrated when they got to the front of the main house where the trees thinned out.

 

“Issac, can you call Derek for me?” Stiles said after he finished making the last tree. It had taken him almost three hours before he had finished with whatever this was. Derek took a step toward Stiles.

 

“Hey,” he said and Stiles jumped.

 

“When did you get here?” he asked and then looked passed Derek. “Where's Issac?”

 

“He's been gone since the second tree,” Derek answered, feeling an odd fondness slip into his chest.

 

“I didn't even realise... I was just...”   


“Focused. It's fine,” Derek said.

 

“Felt safe,” Stiles said after a strange beat of silence. “I'll make it safer.”

 

“So, why'd you need me?” he asked slowly.

 

“Combined strength?”

 

“You don't sound confident,” Derek said, and Stiles nodded.

 

“I kind of... need some of your blood,” Stiles answered.

 

“Kind of?”

 

“Totally, need your blood,” he answered. “Mine too, if it makes it any better.”

 

“I guess I can spare some blood,” Derek answered. “How do you want to do this?”

 

“The normal way,” Stiles answered with a grin, and Derek rolled his eyes.

 

“Cutting my hand?”

 

“No, cutting hands are dumb, even with super healing. Probably your upper arm,” Stiles answered.

 

“How much blood?”

 

“A tablespoon,” he answered.

 

“How do you plan on keeping me bleeding for long enough to get that much? Or are we cutting me over and over?”

 

“Holy shit no,” Stiles answered, and shook his head. “No, I'll slow your healing. Come on, we'll set up in the driveway, where the trees are thinnest.” Derek shifted the box in his arms, and then followed Stiles to the end of the driveway. He pulled out his phone, sent a text, and then pocketed it again before he dropped to his knees in the gravel.

 

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

 

“Set the box down and sit here,” Stiles said, raking his fingers through the gravel to make an x. Derek placed the box on the ground next to Stiles, and then very carefully sat on the x. Stiles laughed quietly and then shook his head. “I didn't mean it so literally.”

 

“I don't know how magic works, Stiles, for all I know I move and the house explodes,” Derek answered.

 

“There is a super low chance of exploding houses,” Stiles answered, as he dug back into the box. He pulled nine white candles out and carefully set them in a circle in front of him. He measured the length of the circle and dropped a rock into the middle. Then he placed a round black mirror close to where he would be sitting—about arms reach from Derek—and then placed a large piece of black stone in front of Derek.

 

He went back to the box and pulled out an old brass censer. Derek watched as Stiles grabbed a few jars from the box, and stuffed the censer full of cuttings. Stiles then set the censer at another point in the circle, making a triangle in the candles. As he put the censer in place, Allison came out of the house. She was in sweat pants, and one of Scott's shirts. In her hands, she carried a wax figure, that Derek hadn't seen before. “Here, Stiles,” she said.

 

“Perfect,” he said. He scrambled to his feet and took the figure from her. He stepped into the circle of candles, and carefully placed the figure on top of the stone. Now that Derek could see the figure, he realised that it was a roughly carved hunk of wax, made to look like three women standing in a triangle. Stiles adjusted it so that one of each face was turned to each of them. Allison sat down in front of the censer, looking more comfortable and confident that Derek felt. Stiles then stepped over to Derek, kneeling down next to him, and holding his hand out to him. “I'm going to need to cut you now,” he said slowly.

 

“Okay,” Derek mumbled. He grabbed Stiles hand, listening to him mumbled a few words, and then having a wave a nausea crash over him. He tightened his hand around Stiles' and gasped for air.

 

“It'll pass when I let go,” Stiles said, reassuringly. Stiles held a small cup out to Derek, so Derek took it. “Just gather what spills, okay?”

 

“Okay,” he said again. Stiles had a knife suddenly and Derek wasn't sure where it had come from. Then, without warning, it was cutting into his upper arm. He hissed, but when Stiles pulled back, he twisted his arm to the side, and let the blood pour into the cup. Derek didn't know how long it took, but Stiles was the one to let go, and Derek's skin stitched itself together again.

 

“Thank you,” Stiles said and pressed a kiss to his temple. “When I tell you, pour the blood over the Tourmaline,” he said, pointing at the black stone. He glanced over at Allison, who was staring down into a cup like the one Stiles had handed him. She must have cut herself when Stiles cut him, her arm had gauze messily wrapped around it. Stiles took his spot in front of the mirror, and then glanced at Allison.

 

“Onto the censer, right?” she said, and he nodded at her.

 

“Okay,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath. “Let's do this.”

 

 

****** ***

 

Stiles glanced from Allison to Derek, and then to the figure of Hecate in the middle of the circle. He had asked Allison to carve one for him, making sure to use blessed wax and Stiles' tools. She was the only person he knew that had any artistic talents. So, she seemed like the best choice, the fact that she was compatible for the ritual was a bonus. He lifted one hand, snapped is fingers until a ball of fire appeared, and then sent it around the circle lighting the candles. He twitched his fingers to the side, making the fire dart from the last candle and through one of the holes in the censer. After a second, the herbs inside caught fire and started to burn.

 

“Sage, Basil, and Mullin,” he mumbled, as smoke started to pour from the censer. Then he took a deep breath and made eye contact with the figure. There were words to a lot of spells, but—in a very un-Stiles way—he never spoke them. He let words float through his mind, most of the time sure that they weren't even completely the right words. But, it hadn't mattered before. He felt a pulse of warmth rush through his body, so he snapped his eyes up to look at Derek. When he met Derek's eyes, he nodded his head and watched as he poured the cup of blood over the top of the tourmaline. Then he turned to Allison, nodded, and she poured her blood over the censer. Finally, Stiles took the knife in his hand and held his arm out over the mirror.

 

The last blood spilt had to be fresh blood, body warm, and untouched by anything but the air. So, Stiles twisted his arm, and cut along the back of his forearm. He watched the blood bead along his skin, and then start to drip. He looked back down at the mirror, finding the energy pooling on its surface, and watching it. The first drop hit the mirror and the world around them pulsed. Derek and Allison both looked away from the Stiles and out into the forest. The next drop hit the mirror, and the world shook again. Each time, the blood hit the mirror, Stiles felt his heart slam against his ribs. It started to happen faster, the blood becoming a small stream, and his heart jack-hammering like it was slamming against prison bars.

 

The world's shaking slowed, became a steady vibration for a few minutes, and then darkness took over the sky. Then the sigils on the trees lit up, glowing in the sudden darkness that had rushed over them. Stiles didn't look away from the mirror, though, just watched the rituals energy drown in his pool of blood. The blood moved slowly, coating the mirror in a strange shiny red, spreading to the sides. As soon as the last bit of mirror was covered, the world pulsed again, and the sigils on the trees exploded. Beams of light fired up into the air, like hundreds of beacons lighting the sky. Stiles yanked his arm back, licked his other hand, and slapped it over the cut on his arm. He felt the skin underneath mending and holding back his energy.

 

“God,” Allison said softly, as the beams of light faded from the sky.

 

“Stiles is fine,” Stiles said through gritted teeth. He wanted it to sound light and joking, but it came out sounding pained and desperate. Derek shifted, but Stiles held his hand out and shook his head. So Derek stilled, and just watched him inside. Stiles reached out, crushed the flame in front of him, between his fingers. Slowly, each candle went out, until they were sitting in darkness again. They were silent for a few minutes, and then Stiles climbed to his feet. This broke still panic the other's felt, and they both got up and grabbed Stiles.

 

“Are you okay?” Allison asked.

 

“Yeah, fine...” Stiles answered.

 

“Did it work?” Derek mumbled.

 

“Guess we'll find out,” Stiles said.

 

“How?”

 

“I'm gonna light a car on fire,” Stiles answered.

 

“Why?” Allison snapped, and Stiles laughed.

 

“I'm joking,” he said. “I'm gonna go into the road and throw a fireball toward the house. It should bounce off a barrier.” After a second of fidgeting, Allison and Derek let go of Stiles and followed him down the driveway. They made it onto the road, and Stiles ushered the other two behind him. Then, he snapped another fireball into existence and then rolled it between his hands. Slowly letting energy seep into the fire until it was the size of a baseball. Then, he adjusted his stance, pulled his arm back, and threw the fireball toward the house. For a few seconds it flew through the air, and then it hit an invisible barrier and exploded in a flash of light. Stiles stared, wide-eyed at it, “it worked,” he finally managed.

 

“I knew it would,” Allison said and grinned at him. She gave him a tight hug and then started back up the driveway. She paused for a second, at the point where the fireball had exploded, and reached her hand out. She pressed her hand through the air, looking for the barrier, but nothing was there.

 

“The pack can get in and out, without problems,” Stiles said.

 

“It's amazing, Stiles,” she said, and then kept going. She stopped at the ritual site and started to pile everything back into the box it had come out of.

 

“What about the brainwashed members?” Derek asked quietly.

 

“Not them,” Stiles answered. “Another gods magic can't pass through this.”

 

“Will it hurt them?”

 

“I... I don't know,” Stiles said. Derek sighed and then nodded his head slowly.

 

“Okay,” he mumbled.   


“Thank you for helping me,” Stiles said after a second.

 

“I'd do anything for these people Stiles,” Derek said, feeling his chest tighten. “A little blood doesn't mean much in the big picture.”

 

“You're incredible,” Stiles said. Derek turned to look at him, moving quickly, as his face went red.

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me,” Stiles answered. “You're incredible, Derek Hale.” Derek watched his face for a moment, and then look down at the ground.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and then started back toward the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Stiles so much I named my cat after him (my cat is three now)...


	19. Chapter 19

Derek somehow found himself the point of contact between most of the pack and his mother. Many confiding in him their fears and concerns about her leading them into this battle. The worst part of it all, Derek thought, was that he didn't really disagree with them. His mother looked sad, unkempt, and, more often than not, exhausted. She spent more time out in the gazebo, then helping with planning their attack. She'd slip away when no one was looking, and Derek would have to go find her an hour later. Derek thought that she would have crawled into the grave next to her husband, and let herself fade away if it was an option.

 

He knew that the separation from your soulmate was painful, he had seen it before, but he didn't think it was just the loss of his father. The pack was pulling away from her, leaving her behind to grieve and mourn alone. She was isolating herself, slipping into depression, and no one was helping her. They didn't have time to help her, and it was crushing Derek. There was nothing he could do right now, so he focused on the rest of the pack instead, and when he was finally left alone he realised that he had to talk to his mother. He went to Stiles first, dragging him into his mother's office and closing the door behind him. “She can't come with us,” Derek said, almost frantically.

 

“Who?”

 

“My mum,” he answered.

 

“Why?”

 

“The pack doesn't trust her right now, she let a treat into the pack and lost members. But, she doesn't trust herself anymore, and I'm scared that's going to reflect in her choices,” Derek said. Stiles looked at Derek for a second, before he looked down at his hands, to think about it. Derek was worried Stiles would disagree with him and tell him he was reaching, but after a few minutes, Stiles nodded at him.

 

“You're right,” he answered. “But, that means we need a leader.”

 

“You're the best choice for that,” Derek said, gesturing at Stiles.

 

“We need someone a little more... wolfy than me,” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Stiles...”

 

“You're perfect for it,” Stiles said.

 

“No, it's really—”

 

“Erica told me you alpha shouted,” Stiles interpreted.

 

“I don't know how that happened,” Derek answered. Stiles stepped toward Derek, pressing his hand against Derek's chest. Derek felt warmth seep through his skin, and spread through his limbs. Then Stiles pulled his hand back for a second, before slamming his palm back against his chest. The warmth exploded into a fire and Derek shifted. Derek grabbed at his face, his claws sinking into his flesh, but then he could feel Stiles' hands over his. Stiles guided his hands down and away from his face, a second later Stiles' hands were back to his face.

 

“Everyone has potential inside of them, Derek. You have always had the potential to be an Alpha, it's there in your blood. That's what the fire inside of you is. It's rising to the surface because of the trust the others have in you. The trust the pack has in you,” Stiles said.

 

“I don't know why ” Derek mumbled.

 

“You didn't fall for Apollo's trap,” Stiles answered.

 

“Only because of you,” Derek said. “And they still did. They didn't fight him anymore then my mum did...”

 

“It's not really common for wolves to fight their alpha, Derek,” Stiles said. Derek seemed to stall out a little then because he wanted to defend his mother but at the same time, he already knew that she couldn't lead right now. “Your eyes are red, you know,” Stiles said after a few minutes. Derek pulled away from Stiles, dug out his cell phone, and turned the front facing camera on. He stared at himself for a second and then shifted back to normal.

 

“I don't...”

 

“It's temporary,” Stiles said. “But, I think right now, it's the best thing.”

 

“Okay,” Derek mumbled. He glanced at the closed door, and then back at Stiles. “I have to tell her.”

 

“I'll do it,” Stiles said. “I think she'll take it better from me.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” Stiles answered. “I'll talk to Talia, and then we can talk to the pack together.”

 

 

*********

 

Stiles left Derek in Talia's office, to go and find the alpha. He wasn't sure how she was going to take it, but part of him hoped that she would just accept it. He had only made it part way through the backyard of the main house when Talia came racing toward him. She looked wild, eyes wide, hair unkempt and tangled. She was holding a book in his hands, and as soon as she was close enough she shoved it at him. “You can fix this!” she said.

 

“Fix?” Stiles managed to say. Before she yanked the book back and opened it. She was frantically flipping through the pages, tearing some in her hesitate to find whatever it was, she was looking for. Finally, she found it, turned the book around, and held it out to Stiles.

 

“Matthew,” she said. Her voice had a desperate harshness to it, that Stiles had never heard before. He looked down at the book and saw a picture that looked like Hecate. He realised it was information about her, and at the top of the page, was printed 'Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts, and necromancy'. “You can bring him back.”

 

“Talia,” Stiles said, looking up at her. “Talia, I can't bring him back.”

 

“It says you can!”

 

“I don't know how,” Stiles said, carefully taking the book from her. He softly closed the book and tucked it under his arm. “I've only just learned that I have the powers of a god, I can't just suddenly... I can't do it,” he insisted.

 

“It says that you have the abilities—”

 

“It says a lot of things,” Stiles said. He heard a noise behind him, someone else coming into the backyard, so he grabbed her arm and led her away. He didn't say anything else to her until they were in the gazebo, and he had made her sit down. “I want to bring Matthew back, Talia. And, once we have the pack together, I will look at it. I promise I will learn how to do it if I can. But, right now, we have to focus on the living members of the pack.”

 

“If he can come back,” she said, and took a deep breath to try and calm herself. “If he can come back, then it will fix things. At least it will help Sam!” Stiles knelt on the ground in front of her and took her hands in his.

 

“Talia, I need to talk to you, about retrieving the pack.”

 

“We'll leave as soon as I calm down,” she said.

 

“No, not that...” Stiles said. He glanced back toward the main house and then turned to look at her again. “You need to stay here.”

 

“What?”

 

“You're not in your right mind, Talia,” Stiles answered. “I know you can feel the broken bonds of the pack, and the loss of Matthew and worrying for Sam, on top of everyone else being gone. You aren't in your right mind. The pack... even though they didn't mean to, they've chosen another suitable alpha. And every time they see you, in a way that they perceive as weak, they're remaining trust in you fails more. You cannot lead them this time, you need to protect the ones staying behind, you need to protect your home, and you need to take care of yourself. We can do this, with the plans we made, and it will be fine. You're going to be fine, but you need to stay here.” Stiles waited for her to answer him, to fight him, or even just argue, but instead, she just seemed to sink down into her chair.

 

“Who did they choose?” she asked after a minute.

 

“Derek,” he answered. She let out a single hiccuping laugh and then nodded her head.

 

“Good,” she answered, even though tears had started to run down her cheeks. “He's the perfect chose.”

 

“So, you'll stay? And I don't have to do a ritual to keep you in the compound?” Stiles asked. Talia nodded her head slowly and then turned to look at Matthew's grave.

 

“You'll bring the rest of them home?” she asked.

 

“My promise to Sana extends to everyone,” Stiles said. “I'll bring everyone home, not matter what."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the shorter chapter, I was super busy this week!


	20. Chapter 20

The pack was confused when Derek called them all, but they came together without arguing. He had never stood in front of them before, as a beta or otherwise, but now he had to. Stiles was currently telling them that there were going to be changes made to the mission, but Derek couldn't focus on what was being said. Instead, he watched his mother, who was tucked in the back of the room next to Sam. She had come back to the house with Stiles and gone upstairs to talk to Sam. The two of them had come to the meeting together, looking equally as tired, and emotionally drained. Talia wasn't watching Stiles either, Derek realised, she was looking at him. She smiled softly at him, but Derek snapped back to attention when Stiles grabbed his shoulder.

 

“Derek's going to be in charge,” he said. The room was quiet for a second, and then it broke into overlapping voices. Questions and worries were shouted at him, and Derek wanted to back out of this whole thing. But, then he looked at his mother again, who smiled a second time and nodded her head a little. She looked so calm and collected in that moment, more than she had in days, and for whatever reason, it helped.

 

“Quiet,” Derek snapped and everyone listened. It was like the sound was sucked from the room, and it made Derek's ears ring. He waited for a seconded and then took a step toward the pack. “We aren't changing many things. I'm taking my mum's place, Adam I want you to stay here, and Stephen you'll come with us instead. That's all that's changing.”

 

“But, how can we do this with our Alpha here?” Emma asked.

 

“I'm the Alpha,” Derek answered trying not to let fear seep into his voice.

 

“What?” Cora asked. Derek glanced at her and then shifted enough to change his eyes.

 

“Oh my god,” someone said, and then the room went silent.

 

“It's temporary,” Derek said. “Stiles did it, something we can talk about later. Right now, I can order you to follow me, but I don't want that. I want you to come with me because you trust me as your alpha. If you think you can't follow me, then you need to stay behind. We can't have anyone faltering.”

 

“When do you leave?” Stephen asked. He sounded more confident in that moment, then Derek thought he ever had before.

 

“As soon as the cars are loaded,” Derek answered.

 

“Well then, let's get going,” Erica said. There was silence for another second before the pack was moving around them. They decided to keep everyone in the main house until the pack returned, then they would figure out what to do. More of the pack stayed behind, then Derek would have liked, but decided that it was for the best if they weren't confident. Derek didn't wait for them to finishing planning, instead, he went with Allison to help her load the weapons they were taking, and check the vehicles before they left.

 

“The eyes suit you,” Boyd said, as he put Stiles bag into the front seat of the jeep. Derek had popped the hood and was pretending to do something.

 

“We'll see,” he answered and then slammed the hood.

 

“You're going to be a good leader, you know that right?” Boyd said, but Derek just frowned at him.

 

“I'll do what I can,” he answered.

 

“You know, if you don't trust yourself, then there is no point in leaving Talia behind,” Boyd said. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “If you're going to be just as indecisive as her, then we might as well have an experienced, indecisive leader.”

 

“Stiles thinks I'm the best choice for it,” Derek said.

 

“You are,” Boyd said. “I'm not saying this because you're my friend or pack mate, Derek. I'm saying it because I believe it. You're the best choice for this and you need to get your head out of your ass and believe that too. I know you're still afraid because of what happened with Kate, that you think you're going to make bad choices. But, you're the one who realised she was lying, you're the one who stopped her, and you almost died doing that for the pack. A mistake, is just that, a mistake. It's not a life sentence, Derek. It's a learning experience and it's time you realised that.”

 

Derek stared at Boyd for a minute, before he shook his head, and clapped his hand down on his shoulder. “Chatty tonight,” Derek said.

 

“It won't last,” Boyd answered and grinned. The pack started out after that, separating into different vehicles and then waited. Lydia climbed into the back of the jeep, followed by Jackson, and then Issac. He watched Erica and Boyd get into another vehicle, and Scott slipped in next to Allison. They had decided that mates would stay together, to try and minimise the amount of worry for their partners. Those who hadn't found their soulmates or were missing them split between the vehicles. Stiles was the last out of the house, leaving a trail of something on the ground as he walked.

 

“You're gonna have to drive,” Stiles said, as he got into the passenger seat of his jeep.

 

“Already,” Derek answered, getting into the front seat and starting the jeep. He took a deep breath before he started down the driveway, the others following behind him. Lydia punched the address of the carnival into her phone, letting the GPS guide them to their destination. No one spoke as they drove, sitting in tense silence listening to Stiles mutter to himself. There was occasionally bursts of magic from Stiles' hands as he read from a book open on his lap. Derek was too scared to ask what was in the book, or what it was for. So, he just drove.

 

*********

 

Stiles was expecting a lot of things when they arrived at the carnival, but it being open, hadn't been one of them. The parking lot was full of cars and people milling around. The music from inside was loud enough that they could hear it through the windows. Derek stopped the jeep at the back of the parking lot, the rest of the pack packing their cars around him. They had originally planned on parking farther away, but with all the people here, they weren't sure what to do now. “You said—” Stiles started, but Lydia cut him off.

 

“They aren't meant to be open,” she snapped.

 

“I'd say they opened for us,” Derek said.

 

“Why?” Issac asked, but his voice trailed off as he looked toward the gates. There was a banner strung across the entrance, with _'Families of Performers get in Free'_ , written across it.

 

“Well, fuck,” Jackson said softly. Derek turned to look out the window at the rest of the pack, some of whom had gotten out of their cars. Derek opened the door and climbed out, leaving the door behind him open so that everyone could hear him.

 

“We need to change the plan, we can't have—”

 

“Attention valued attendees! I'd like to announce that our guests of honour have arrived! The show can start! Please make your way to the main arena for a show you'll never forget!” Apollo's voice boomed over loudspeakers. The other people in the parking lot turned in time with each other, walking like a marching band through the gates.

 

“Well fuck,” Jackson said again.

 

“So much for surprising them,” Stiles said, and then dug into his bag. He pulled out, what looked like, a ball of light. Then he got out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind him.

 

“Stiles?” Derek asked.

 

“I'm worried that we don't have time to figure anything out, the show probably isn't going to be good for the pack,” Stiles answered.

 

“We can't all just march inside,” Derek said, as he came around the Jeep to Stiles.

 

“What else do we do?” Stiles asked. Derek hesitated for a minute and then turned back to the pack.

 

“Malia, Stephen, James, Boyd, and Cora will come with Stiles and I. The rest of you split into two groups, and half of you go back home,” Derek said.

 

“What?” Scott snapped. “You expect us to just leave our family in there?”

 

“No,” Derek said sternly. “I expect that you listen to me. You can stay out here, but we have too many people here now. This isn't stealth and force doesn't seem like a good idea either. I want people with me who don't have parents or mates inside. I want people who aren't going to worry or panic or do something stupid because they see someone. And, I want people out here that I trust can come in to help us if we need them. The only reason Stiles and I are both going, is because I'm the Alpha, and he's in charge.” Scott seemed to shrink back from Derek, but Stiles could tell he was still upset.

 

“Fine,” Scott answered, but he wasn't the only one who looked worried about the choice. Derek felt a tug in his chest like his heart was aching. He wondered if it was the feeling of the wavering trust if it was what his mother had been feeling. Stiles looked up at the sky, finding the moon partially hidden behind angry looking rain clouds. Stiles held the ball up to the sky, letting it float out of his hand, and toward the moon. He waited until the ball was hovering between him and the moon, blocking it from his sight. Then he reached out and grabbed it.

 

“What is that?” Lydia asked. Stiles glanced at her for a second, before he looked back at his hand, and closed his hand around the ball.

 

“Steroids,” he answered, and popped the ball into his mouth.

 

“What?” she snapped but it was too late to argue. Stiles bit down on the ball, it cracked like glass, and liquid spilt from it. He chewed the shards in his mouth, tasting his own blood mixing with the liquid, and then he swallowed it all. “Are you insane?” Lydia snapped.

 

“A little,” Stiles answered and then he stepped forward. The clouds in the sky separated, skittering away like insects that had been disturbed. The parking lot lit up with moonlight, pouring around Stiles like silver spotlights. He started toward the park entrance, knowing the others would follow. He made it halfway there before the spell hit him and made him stumble. He felt his power settled heavily in his limbs, making him feel more grounded and centred, once he had regained his balance. 

 

“ Was that safe?” Malia asked as she caught up with him. She was already partly shifted, her claws and teeth out, and eyes reflecting the light. 

 

“ I don't know, I've never done it before,”  he answered.

 

“I love it when you take  weird drugs and get fucked up,” she said and then grinned at him.  Stiles smirked, raised his eyebrows at her, and then rolled up his sleeves. 

 

“I've never done that either,” he said, and then he was walking through the gate. There was no one in the ticket booth, just an old squeaking turnstile, and a mostly dark park ahead of him. He paused just inside the entrance when a gust of wind circled around him, he knew, very suddenly that they were walking into a different dimension. He fidgeted for a second and wished that he wasn't wearing shoes, so he could feel the earth below him, or whatever was below him now. He took another step forward and was hit with the smell of popcorn and cotton candy. The smells made a feeling spread through his body, making a strange nostalgia settle in his bones and ache. The wolves could feel it too, they shifted uncomfortably behind him, like they were trying to shake the ache away. 

 

Stiles started forward, walking toward the large silver and gold tent that loomed over them. There were people again, lined up between two velvet ropes at the two visible entrances, but they were just standing in place. When Stiles reached the lineup, a woman snapped her head to the side, to stare at him. “You have to go in first,” she said. “We can't go in without you.” Then, everyone took a step to the side, making room for the pack to walk up the line.

 

“So, we're just going in?” Stephen asked.

 

“Might as well, don't want to be rude,” Stiles said.

 

“I wouldn't mind being a little rude,” he mumbled but followed. They reached the front of the lineup to find Melissa smiling at them.

 

“Welcome!” she said, in a voice that was too high-pitched. Her face was painted white, with black eyeliner circling her eyes, and bright red lipstick perfectly covering her lips. There were a smattering of stars draw on her face as well, spread over her nose and cheeks like freckles. She was wearing a black shirt and pants, with a shiny red jacket tugged on over top of it. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, with strands of gold woven through it. “You're seats are this way.” She threw her hand out behind her and spun around before Stiles could do anything. He wasn't even sure if he could clear the control on her when they weren't in the right dimension. Stiles followed behind her, noticing a woman he didn't recognise take her place at the entrance.

 

“This is weird,” Malia mumbled.

 

“That's an understatement,” Stiles answered. Melissa lead them through the seats, to a row that was in the middle of the tent, right at the edge of the arena.

 

“Someone will be by to get you refreshments very soon!” she said and then was off again.

 

“Are we really just... going to sit here?” James asked.

 

“For the time being,” Stiles answered, and dropped into one of the chairs. He could feel their eyes on him, unsure if he was being serious or not. Stiles let them stare and instead watched the people filling the tent now. Another woman did come over a few minutes later and offer them drinks and popcorn, but Stiles waved her away. “Don't eat anything here.”

 

“Like we're that dumb,” Malia said from beside him. The woman was dressed almost identically to Melissa, expect that she had silver woven through her hair and coloured splotches on her face that looked like clouds. She waited by them for a minute, like she was still waiting for them to order something from her.

 

“Very well!” she said cheerfully, and then retreated like they had ordered something. The tent finished filling, and for a few minutes, the people around them seemed to be chatting to each other. Filling the area with the noise of a crowd, but when Stiles focused on individual people, they were just saying nonsense. Everyone was speaking at the same time, turned to look at each other, to give the illusion of conversation. Then, very suddenly, everything stopped. No one was talking, the lights went out, and the warmth left the room.

 

Then, the show lights came on, a spotlight snapping to life in the middle of the room, illuminating Apollo. He looked almost the same as he normally did but now seemed to almost be glowing in front of them. He was dressed in a black and gold stripped ringmaster outfit. A black top hat on his head, with a ribbon of gold wrapped around the base. “Welcome to the Sun and Moon's Cabinet of Curiosities! Our wonderful modern day freak show! But, worry not, your show is filled with wonderful talent and exceptional acts. From humans going beyond their normal limits to vampire acts, and some incredible werewolves! Sit back and be prepared to witness the most exciting show of your lives!” Apollo threw his hands into the air, making the crowd burst into thunderous applause, he let it go on for a few minutes, and then he dropped his hands to his side and silenced the room. “And a very special welcome to the remaining Hale pack! Here to see their family dazzle and awe them with their talents. I'm especially thrilled you could come, Stiles.” Apollo smiled, a wide beaming toothy grin, and the room applauded again.

 

“Well, I mean, it's called Sun and Moon's Cabinet of Curiosities,” Stiles said, from where he was lounging in his chair. “I figured you wanted the moon to be here, couldn't find the sun on such short notice though.”

 

“Still just as cheeky,” Apollo said.

 

“Only been a few days since I last kicked your ass,” Stiles answered.

 

“Enjoy the show,” Apollo said and then winked at him. Then he said something else, but it wasn't in English and said so softly that Stiles almost didn't realise he had said anything at all. Then Apollo was gone, in a flash of lights, and a sudden pick up of music.

 

“This isn't a good idea, Stiles,” Derek said suddenly.

 

“I need to be here,” Stiles said, without looking over at him. He was too scared to take his eyes off the arena like if he missed something, he wouldn't be able to save them.

 

“Malia, stay with Stiles, the rest of us are going to look around,” Derek said.

 

“Got it,” she answered. Stiles could feel her eyes on him, staring at him like he had a screw loose.

 

“I'm going to stay too,” Cora said. “Just in case.”

 

“Okay,” Derek said slowly. He nodded for the others to follow him, and they slipped through the rows of people and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was almost done this story ten chapters and 26k words ago... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	21. Chapter 21

Derek could feel something twisting painfully in his chest; panic, worry, and something that he couldn't place, but he didn't have time for it now. “We'll do a sweep of the area, see who we can find, and then back to Stiles.” They moved through the rows of people, but the audience didn't seem to notice them at all. Instead, they were focused on a group of woman—who seemed to be vampires—standing in the middle of the ring. Or, maybe they weren't focusing on anything at all, just staring in the direction they were told to.

 

“I don't think they're human,” Boyd said.

 

“I don't think they're anything,” Stephen said in response. “Just illusions.” They stepped down onto the floor, and there was suddenly a woman in front of them, stepping out from around the end of the seats.

 

“Are you not happy with your seating arrangements?” she asked, in a cheery voice. She was dressed like Melissa, with the gold in her hair and stars on her cheeks.

 

“We just need some air,” Derek answered, decided on responding like Stiles had. He was going to treat it like this was a normal show, and they hadn't just willingly stepped into a trap.

 

“But the shows only just began! There is so much to see!” she said.

 

“We'll be right back,” Derek answered.

 

“Very well! The guests are always right, of course!” she said, and stepped aside. The four of them moved quickly out of the tent, and back out into the empty carnival. They were only walking for a minute when suddenly Issac was coming up to them, looking terrified but happy.

 

“I found you!” he said excitedly, grabbing Derek.

 

“Why are you here?” Derek snapped.

 

“It's been hours Derek! What were we meant to do?” Issac snapped.

 

“What?” Stephen asked. “Hours?”

 

“Yeah...?”

 

“We've been gone, maybe ten minutes,” Derek said.

 

“No, not at all. Like, five hours...” Issac answered. Derek turned to look at the other three and then looked as confused as he felt.

 

“Stiles said we were in a different dimension,” James said slowly.

 

“Go back to the cars and tell them we're okay, but time is wrong here, okay?” Derek said as he looked back at Issac. He could feel the others shifting behind him, uncomfortable and probably scared. Issac didn't look any better, glancing from Derek to the gate and back again.

 

“Scott wanted me to stay when I found you,” Issac answered.

 

“I'll go out,” James said. “Honestly, I don't even want to be here.” And, like that, James was striping toward the gates and back out into the parking lot.

 

“Guess you're with us, Issac,” Stephen said and clapped him on the shoulder. The second Stephen's hand hit Issac and the dull thud of skin against fabric was heard, the carnival came to life. There was a popping noise at the same time, and all the lights flickered on. Suddenly, there were people filling the empty carnival, hurrying into booths and onto suddenly moving rides.

 

“Oh good,” Issac said, his voice sounding compressed in his throat. The people moved around them, jostling them back and forth as they hurried by. At one of the smaller tents ahead of them, he could see Raj—a beta that had been adopted by the pack when his pack had died out—waving and grinning brightly. He was dressed like Melissa had been, with the same face paint and stars over his cheeks. His red jacket was left undone, hanging open like they were trying to make him look casual.

 

“Raj,” Stephen called out, but the man didn't response. It wasn't until they were in front of him that he even seemed to notice them at all.

 

“Hello!” Raj shouted over the music now pumping through the air. “Welcome to the Haunted Horror Show! Our very own little-haunted house for you to visit if you're brave enough! You can follow me through the maze inside, full of dark secrets and terrifying scares. The likes of which have never been seen before!”

 

“Raj,” Stephen said again, this time slowly and more concerned. He reached out carefully, putting his hand on Raj's arm. The other man took a step back, still smiling but shook his head.

 

“I'm sorry, Sir! But, you can't touch the staff! Would you like tickets to go through?” he asked. Derek looked at the tent for a minute, it wasn't very big but that didn't seem to mean much here. He looked back at Raj and watched him for another second.

 

“You'll guide us?” Stephen asked.

 

“Of course! Don't want you to get lost and everything shuts down if it becomes too much for you!” Raj answered.

 

“Then we'll go through,” Stephen said.

 

“What?” Boyd mumbled.

 

“Once we are through, we're only a few steps from the front gate. One of us can just grab him and drag him back to the car,” Stephen answered harshly, trying to whisper what he wanted to do.

 

“We'll never get everyone that way,” Issac said. “Dragging them out, one by one? And then what? We won't have enough space in the cars and they'll still be brainwashed.”

 

“Four tickets then,” Derek said. He realised the back of the tent let out into an area that seemed to be mostly staff only. He didn't think Stephen's plan would work in the long run, he hoped that they could hop the fence behind the haunted house and find the others.

 

“Perfect!” Raj said spinning around, grabbing the tent flap and yanking it open. He ushered the four men in ahead of him, letting them step into what looked like an empty and poorly lit tent, then he dropped the flap behind him. Almost all the light disappeared from the tent, leaving only streaks of light across the floor, and a dim glow behind them. “Please don't hesitate and continue forward!” Raj said from behind him. So Derek did as he was told, taking a step into the darkness, and suddenly feeling incredibly stupid for making them come into the tent.

 

He walked forward and after a few minutes was sure that he should almost be reaching the other side of the tent. Instead, there was more darkness and the room was heating up. There were voices now, whispering softly in the darkness around him. He could hear people talking, voices he recognised as pack members. A feeling of panic settled into his chest as he walked and the voices grew louder and more frantic. Suddenly, he wasn't in the tent at all, instead, he was in the forest outside his home. The house rose above him like a tower, and there was smoke pouring from the windows. He could hear screaming now, voices begging for help, fists slammed against doors. He started to run toward the house, his first thought was that Stiles spell hadn't worked, and the pack was burning because of them. But then he heard laughter from his left.

 

The laughter made his heart skip a beat and all the moisture in his mouth to evaporate. He turned slowly, to look at a group of hunters. Kate was standing there, with her hands on her hips, laughing. “It's perfect, Der!” she shouted over the screaming. “You did perfectly!” He turned back to the house and ran to it. He slammed against the door over and over, screaming whatever words came to mind, ramming into the door until he felt his shoulder pop out of place. He could hear his mother's voice inside, screaming for help, screaming for anyone. He kept slamming himself against the door until it finally gave way, and he tumbled inside.

 

He tumbled to the ground, feeling the flames on his skin and the smoke fill his lungs. He could smell burning flesh and hear hearts stopping as he lay there trying to regain his balance. The smoke burned his eyes, but he crawled forward. Every door in the house was sealed and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get them to open. He made it the basement door, where the screams were the loudest. He could see fingers under the door, pushing out desperately reaching for the freedom beyond. He could hear the pups crying, their playroom was in the basement, and they must have been down there when the fire started. He grabbed at the door handle, feeling the flesh burning away from his hand as he desperately tried turning it. The fire was latching onto his clothing and burning the fabric away as he stood there.

 

He couldn't stop screaming at them, telling them to move back away from the door, but the fingers never pulled back. So, he decided that it was the only option, that he could just slam it open and carry them out. Better hit with a door then burned alive, he thought. He started to slam himself against the door like he had before, but this time it felt like it was made of metal. Each thud hurt more and more until he was crying each time he slammed against the door. “Please!” he screamed as he slammed against it. “Please! I'll do anything, just open, please open! I can't do this, I can't lose them!” And, then the door opened. He tumbled forward for the second time, but now he was hitting the cold hard carnival ground, dirt and rocks cutting into his hands. He pushed off the ground, still smelling smoke and sobbing, and realised the others were around him, just as terrified.

 

Issac had vomit down the front of his shirt and was soaked in sweat. Stephen was covered in blood, his clothing torn, and shards of glass were embedded in his face. Boyd had blood all over his hands, mouth, and up the side of his face. There were thick tear tracks down Boyd's cheeks, leaving clean trails where the blood had been washed away. Derek realised that his clothing was still burned and he was covered in soot. Raj stood at the tent flap, looking as perfect as he had before, with his hands held behind his back. “I see it got to be too much for you all,” he said, grinning. “Silly men! You just had to say it was too much and it would have stopped! You all went for so long before you did!”

 

Issac stared at Raj, his mouth partly open like he wanted to scream at him, but instead he just collapsed to the ground. He was still crying, Derek realised, so he grabbed him. He pulled him up to his side and held Issac as he sobbed. “Issac,” Derek said through his heavy breathing.

 

“I was in the freezer, Derek,” he said, his body shaking and convulsing as he cried. “I was back in the freezer and I couldn't breathe anymore. I kept trying to shift but I couldn't change.” Derek helped Issac to his feet and looked at the other two. Boyd had scrubbed the blood from his face and was now helping Stephen remove the glass from his forehead. He felt his heart lurched in his chest as he saw them, knowing they had lived their nightmares in that tent.

 

“Stephen, get Raj,” Derek said. His uncle nodded and grabbed the other man, who started to shout and struggle against the hold. “Issac,” Derek said softly. “I want you all to go back to the cars.” Issac looked at Derek, with wide eyes, and then frantically nodded his head.

 

“You want us to leave you alone?” Boyd asked.

 

“I want you safe,” he answered.

 

“Issac, can you walk on your own?” Boyd asked, and Issac nodded at him. “Then I'm staying with Derek. Issac and Stephen can go back.” Derek stared at Boyd, who still looked scared and hadn't gotten the tears out of his eyes yet, but he knew that he couldn't get Boyd to leave. So, instead, he nodded.

 

“Fine, take Raj and go,” Derek said. Stephen hauled Raj up onto his shoulder and carried the man kicking and screaming out of the carnival. Issac trailing behind him, looking nervously at the people milling around, who didn't even seem to notice them. Derek waited until they were out of sight before he stepped over the rope along the path that led them back to the front of the tent. Boyd followed him closely like he was suddenly scared of being alone. Derek glanced at him as they walked, trying to clear the screaming from his mind. “What did you see?” Derek asked quietly a minute later.

 

“I was with my sister...” he answered, staring straight ahead. Derek tensed as Body took a deep breath. “We were in my mum's living room and I went rogue. I wasn't myself and I tore her apart. I kept trying to stop, screaming and crying, but I couldn't. Then Erica came in with my mum... Erica—Erica is pregnant, for real, I mean. And, in the tent, I slammed her to the ground, I ripped the baby from her stomach and devoured it. I could hear my mum screaming, and Erica screaming for a while. But it all died out. Then I was alone, covered in blood and all I could do was beg for it to end...” Boyd trailed off, stepping over another rope onto a new path. They were quiet for a few minutes, as they walked deeper into the staff area of the carnival.

 

“The compound was burning for me,” Derek finally said. “Everyone was in the main house. And I took Kate to it, and let her burn it all down. I couldn't get anyone out... I could barely get the doors open.”

 

“Nightmares,” Boyd mumbled, looking down at his arm. Derek realised that at some point, Boyd had written _'i love you like mad'_ there. He couldn't make out what had just appeared, but he knew that Erica had answered him. “They were just nightmares,” Boyd said sternly as they turned a corner. Suddenly, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy was overpowered by the smell of animals. There were rows and rows of cages, full of creatures pacing or screaming for freedom. Some were throwing themselves against the bars now that Derek and Boyd were in view, sending spit and blood flying between the bars at they frantically tried to reach them. They stared in horror at the creatures, who seemed to all be shifters forced into their animal forms. 

 

“Only nightmares...” Derek said slowly,  feeling dread spread through his chest and his heart clench in panic . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only Derek's POV this time, I felt like added Stiles stuff onto this, might take away from what just happened...


	22. Chapter 22

Stiles had been to carnivals before, he had seen fake magic and real magic all his life, but this was something else. There was tension in the tent around them and when performers came into the ring smiling and laughing, he could still feel their fear. He watched as a group of girls came into the ring, were white makeup and brightly coloured flowing dresses. He realised, as they stumbled around the ring, they were meant to be clowns. They danced, played with bubbles, and did a few quick changes during the acted. They were bowing to the applause when Stiles realised that one of them was Gabi, the vampire girl he had met. His heart ached in his chest, he should have offered her a place to stay with him. He should have told her that he could protect her, then she wouldn't have been there now.

 

They watched a centaur climb a ladder up to a set of tightropes, and then in horror, watched as he made his way across the ropes. There was a group of faeries that dances, and a lion tamer that was taming a manticore. Cora leant forward in her seat, as the manticore's tail swung around its body and jabbed at the man. “I'm going to be sick,” she muttered.

 

Stiles scanned the crowd, watching the way they moved and cheered. Then he noticed the shadows, where there were _other_ creatures leaking. He realised suddenly where they were, why the place felt so familiar. They were in purgatory and as soon as the thought entered his mind, everything froze for a beat, and then the world twisted. The audience all spun around, turning to face him. Their eyes were open wide and slowly their mouths followed. A low growling noise filled the arena until their mouths were stretching farther open, revealing huge black voids that Stiles thought might swallow him whole. Then there was a howl that filled the room, Stiles blinked, and the audience had turned back around. He looked at Cora and then Malia but neither of them seemed to notice anything.

 

Stiles turned back to the arena and watched as the man came into the ring, dressed in shiny red pants that came out from his hips like triangles and a metallic gold tank top that looked too tight. Stiles could see spiral patterns running up the man's arms, and the words _'I miss you'_ and _'I love you'_ written through the artwork. He came to stop in the middle of the ring and suddenly there were other people running around him. They were rearranging the stage, setting up hoops and ramps, and low tight ropes. Then, the man whistled and a group wolves rushed into the ring. They were all members of the pack, and it made Stiles wonder if there were other wolves here or just the Hale's. They watched as the wolves ran through an obstetrical course and the audience screamed and cheered.

 

“Shouldn't we do something?” Malia snapped, making Stiles look at her. She was twisting her hands in her lap and looked furious.

 

“Like what?” he asked.

 

“I don't know... attack?”

 

“Not yet,” he answered, and turned back to look at them. He could feel how tense Malia and Cora were on either side of him, but he knew that jumping in now was wrong. So, he watched. The light went out, as the wolves ran out of the ring, chasing the man like puppies looking for a treat. Slow, sweet music started after a few seconds of darkness, something that was soft and sensual. A single stop light came on, illuminating a cloaked figure on a platform. The figure moved slowly and the cloak swayed with the movements. Long arms lifted slowly into the air, and then snapped forward pulling the cloak tight around the body. Stiles realised it was a woman then, and as she moved his stomach filled with a lead weight of panic.

 

More lights came on slowly, as she danced along connecting platforms that had appeared out of nowhere. The cloak making her movements look fluid and hypnotic. She finally spun around, the hood of the cloak coming down as she did. Malia gasped and Cora managed to choke out, “Laura!” and then the music picked up. It was too loud now for them to hear each other, so Stiles ignored the girls. Stiles knew that Laura could dance, all the wolves were graceful, but watching her like this, felt like he was peeking into a private part of her life he shouldn't see. She shrugged the cloak off her shoulders, clutching her tightly around her chest, pressing her breasts together as she did. Stiles stood up, as Laura stepped forward and the cloak dropped from her body. She was breathing heavily now, chest heaving, as she spun around one last time, before dropping down onto one of the platforms, naked and gasping for air. The audience started to scream their applause, standing up and whistling or shouting.

 

Stiles realised that Maila and Cora were both gone from his side, and all he could do was swear when he realised they were running to Laura. “Stop!” he shouted, but neither of them could hear him. He watched them disappear into the crowd and like that, he was alone. The audience kept cheering until Apollo was back in the ring, then he waved his hands and silenced them. Everyone sat down in unison, except for Stiles, who was still standing and watching. Apollo had walked up behind the platform that Laura was still laying on, Apollo's stomach pressing against the side of the platform as he stood next to her.

 

“What did you think?” Apollo shouted, grinning widely up at Stiles. “Did you like it?”

 

“Yeah, I've always wanted to see my sister-in-law do a striptease, it made my night,” Stiles shouted back, but there was no real humour in his voice. Apollo's grinned dropped as Stiles spoke, and he looked furious.

 

“Why can't you be grateful?” he hissed, his voices echoing through the microphone he was wearing.

 

“Me?” Stiles asked.

 

“Another acted then!” Apollo yelled. From behind him a group of people came in, dragging with them Derek, Boyd, Cora, and Malia. The four of them were bound in chains and connected to each other in a line. “Leave him,” Apollo snapped pointing at Boyd, and then he whistled sharply. Two other pack members came into the ring, two of Derek's cousins, Taavet and Radek stood on either side of the ring. The people unhooked Boyd from the chains and then arranged the other three around the ring. Then one of the clowns from earlier came in, drew white chalk lines between them, making a star around the ring, with Apollo and Laura in the middle.

 

“I don't want to see another act!” Stiles shouted. Whatever magic Apollo had been using to make this feel like a carnival was gone. The lights flickered and suddenly there were flames coming from under the edges of the tent. The audience was still there, shouting and cheering again, as Apollo started chanting. Stiles started to run, through the rows of chairs, as the creatures around him grabbed at his clothing as he passed them. He stumbled over the people, scrambled down a set of stairs at the edge of the tent, and then sprinted toward Apollo. He threw his hands in front of him and then yanked them back, causing the legs of the platform Laura was on, to splinter making the platform collapse. He raced past Cora and made it half way across the room, when an arrow embedded into his shoulder, making him stumble.

 

“No!” Apollo screamed and a second arrow that had been flying at Stiles exploded. “Not him!” he screamed.

 

“I'm sick of this!” Artemis shouted back. “Kill him and take the next!” Stiles grabbed the arrow in his arm and tore it free. He clasped his hand over the wound, and let it stitch itself closed before he started forward again.

 

“There is no next,” Apollo snapped. He rolled his shoulders back and fired a beam of energy from his hand at the chalk on the ground. The energy hit the chalk, sparking and lighting another fire that started along the line toward Malia.

 

“Force it,” Artemis snapped. “All of this for an unwilling—”

 

“Shut up!” Apollo screamed. He threw another blast of energy through the air, this time it collided with Artemis, sending her tumbling backwards to the ground. Apollo ran around the collapsed platform, to where Laura was on the ground. She hadn't moved, probably being told to stay still once her performance was over. Apollo dropped to his knees next to her, digging a silver dagger out of his jacket, and then cutting his hand open. He threw his hand out, splattering Laura's body with his blood, and then raised the dagger over her. Stiles knew if Apollo hadn't snapped at Artemis, he would never have been able to stop him, but because he had, Stiles closed his hand around the dagger and it melted away. The silver turned to liquid and poured down Apollo's hand and arm. Soaking into the sleeve of his jacket, and making him pull back from Laura. “Why won't you let me do this?” Apollo screamed. His voice echoed through the tent, making the audience pulse and ripple, as he lost control.

 

“I'm sorry I don't want my family dead!” Stiles snapped, and then Apollo jumped on top of him.

 

“I've done this for you!” he screamed, grabbing at Stiles.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Stiles shouted. Apollo's hands found Stiles' neck and closed around them. The melted silver leaving trails over Stiles' skin, as Apollo suddenly started to sob.

 

“You're mine!” he screamed. “You're mine and you always have been mine! Why do you keep finding others?! Why can't you just let us be?” Stiles forced his hands against Apollo's chest, sending a burst of energy through his palms as they hit him. The blast forced Apollo off of Stiles and sent him crashing to the ground a few feet away.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Stiles shouted and coughed as he gasped for air. He staggered back to his feet, grabbed Laura's arm, and forced Apollo's control from her mind. It slipped out of her mind slowly, and she stared up at him for a few seconds, before she panicked. She rolled onto her side, realised she was naked and shifted into a wolf. “Help Derek, Cora, and Malia!” Stiles snapped. Laura launched in Cora's direction, gnashing her teeth and growling.

 

“No! No! Stay still!” Apollo shouted, back on his feet as well.

 

“You've lost, brother,” Artemis said, suddenly standing beside him. “You've lost and I refuse to be part of this any longer.”

 

“No! If you leave, I will lose them,” Apollo shouted, twisting around to face her.

 

“You have lost them!” she snapped. “I will not fight a losing battle!” Artemis tightened her grip on her bow and then fired an arrow up through the top of the tent. The canvas tore open, letting moonlight pour into the tent with them. Suddenly, Taavet collapsed and Stiles could hear people shouting outside the tent.

 

“No!” Apollo screamed, his voice tearing from his throat. Artemis turned and faced Stiles, her bow falling to her side as she turned.

 

“I took no pleasure in this, Hecate,” she said. “It was the debt of a sibling. I will leave him to you.” Then, she was gone. Apollo spun around, facing Stiles, clenching and unclenching his hands as he stood there.

 

“I refuse to lose!” he shouted and ran at Stiles again. This time Stiles managed to step out of the way, sending Apollo crashing to the ground again. The fire was still spreading, slowly crawling along the ground and climbing up the fabric of the tent. A buzzing, humming noise started to fill the tent, making the wolves whine as they panicked. Stiles turned to see the pack gathering, looking confused and scared but very much alive. “Get everyone out of here!” Stiles shouted.

 

“What about you?” Derek shouted back.

 

“I can always write for a ride,” Stiles answered and then grinned. “Can't ignore me if I scribble all over you.” Derek smiled, just a little, and then turned and ordered everyone out of the tent. Stiles had a feeling that beyond the tent's canvas was a collapsing world. Part of him was sure that he could leave, even if the edges of the world collapsed, but another part of him wasn't sure if that was possible.

 

 

*********

 

Derek forced the pack out of the tent, sending half of them toward the exit and out into the parking lot. The rest he took back to the cages and staff area of the carnival. They ran through the tents, tearing open doors, letting anyone trapped inside out into the grounds. Each time they found someone in a tent or building Derek would instruct someone to grab them and take them to the parking lot as well. They reached the row of cages again, where they had been grabbed before. Most of the creatures in the cages had disappeared or changed back into humans and were able to fit between the bars and escape. The pack slowly took person after person out, until all that was left was empty cages and Derek standing on the gravel road.

 

He felt frantic and started to run through the carnival a second time. He looked through everything again, desperate to make sure everyone got out safe. He was about to start another round of the grounds when he bumped into a woman. “I'm sorry,” he said. “Let me help you out of here.”

 

“I'm not trapped here,” she answered. “But you will be if you don't leave soon.” Derek stared at her for a second and realised that if Stiles had a sister, this would be her.

 

“I can't leave until—”

 

“Everyone else is gone,” she answered, reaching out and taking his hand with hers. “They are safe.”

 

“You're Hecate?” he asked.

 

“I'm what's left of her powers,” she answered. “Soon, Stiles will absorb all of me.”

 

“I... I'm sorry,” he said.

 

“Don't be,” she answered. “It's a thrill to finally die, and be reborn into such a bright young man.”

 

“You'll be him?” Derek asked.

 

“Partly. Just as I was his mother before him, his grandmother before her, his great-grandfather before her and so on,” she answered. “He is me, a little like you are Lycaon. Your blood is his blood.”

 

“The first werewolf?”

 

“Your family comes from him, spinning and spreading through generations. Combining with others like you, from other lands and legends,” she answered. She intertwined her fingers with Derek's and yanked him towards the front gate. The carnival around them was warping now, the tents collapsing and the world seemed to be crumbling away. “You're pack is waiting.”

 

“But Stiles...”

 

“Stiles is a god and no matter the outcome, you must be with your pack to survive.”

 

“I—”

 

“Your pack needs their alpha, Derek,” she said urgently. Derek took a few slow steps forward, letting her drag him away. Then, she started to run and he followed her, clutching at her hand and chasing behind her.

 

“I'm not really the alpha,” he said as they ran.

 

“Not yet! But one day!” she shouted back. The ground lurched below them, and she jumped over a gap that had appeared. Derek tightened his hold on her hand and followed her, jumping over the gap and landing on the other side. They didn't slow down, just kept running toward the exit. They ran along the pathways, kicking up gravel as they went, and then they were racing through the gates. She looked over her shoulder and smiled and then Derek was alone. His hand fell to his side, and he spun back around. He watched as the last of the carnival flickered and warped in front of his eyes. Then, like it had never been there in the first place, it was gone.

 

“Stiles!” Derek shouted, stepping forward. “Stiles!” he screamed, as the pack ran toward him. But, there was nothing there, and his voice echoed around him, never reaching Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting super close to the ending, for real this time. I will probably wrap it up in a chapter or two. If there is more stuff you wanna see in this AU, let me know, and I'll see what I can do!


	23. Chapter 23

            The carnival burned to the ground around them, leaving Stiles and Apollo standing in the middle of nothing. “Guess your mate didn't want you after all,” Apollo hissed. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped around his waist.

 

            “You're an idiot,” Stiles snapped.

 

            “You can't leave anymore; you've been here too long now. You're stuck with me!” Apollo shouted.

 

            “That's fine,” Stiles answered, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. He glanced toward the spot where the exit had been, but there was nothing there now. It was just endless darkness that seemed to go on forever. There was ground under them and when Stiles walked it seemed to extend and follow him. There was a sky above them as well, he could see stars and the moon was there, lighting up the world.

 

            “I win,” Apollo hissed.

 

            “I don't think so, all you ended up with is darkness and me,” Stiles answered shrugging.

 

            “You're what I won,” he said and then Apollo laughed. “All this time, all this fucking time, I've been collecting and gathering those creatures.”

 

            “What are you talking about?” Stiles asked.

 

            “You're mine! My partner! My lover! My soulmate!” Apollo screamed.

 

            “I'm 100% sure that I'm not,” Stiles answered. Apollo stumbled toward him, panting and Stiles realised, bleeding. “Not so tough for a god.”

 

            “You still don't understand,” Apollo hissed. “We aren't all powerful. We can die and be reborn. We are mages who didn't have to compete for the magic from Gaia when we were born. It was just there for us to scoop up and consume. But, then humans and creatures starting running around, made by us as we learned how to use our powers. And they took magic from Gaia, took magic from us. The power spread thin and now, all that's left is this pathetic excuse for a world. Now we have these filthy creatures getting lives that we'll never get!”

 

            “What does any of that have to do with me?”

 

            “You were mine! Hecate is mine!” he shouted and grabbed Stiles. The force of him colliding with Stiles sent them off balance, crashing to the ground with a painful thud. Apollo climbed on top of him and grabbed Stiles face in his hands. Stiles stared defiantly at him, jaw set stubbornly, eyes staring unwaveringly at him. Apollo leant down toward him like he was going to try and kiss him. But Stiles wouldn't let him, instead, he grabbed at Apollo, his fingers curling around the other man's neck. Stiles tightened his fingers, digging into flesh and let his magic leak from his fingertips. Apollo yanked back, falling off of Stiles and rolling onto his side. Stiles stood up slowly, sick of being knocked to the ground, and wanting out of this world. He turned to look at Apollo who was still on the ground, and the scoffed at him.

 

            “Is that your plan?” Stiles asked. “You're going to force me?”

 

            “If that's what it takes,” Apollo hissed. Stiles laughed then, louder and harder than he had in a long time.

 

            “You'll never manage,” Stiles said. “What did you think; killing supernatural creatures was going to get my attention? That is fucked up carnival was going to make me swoon?”

 

            “You don't know anything!” Apollo snapped. He was trying to get to his feet again, but he was staggering. Stiles walked toward him, moonlight pooling around him, making him look like he was glowing. “It's not fair!” Apollo shouted, and collapsed onto the ground.

 

            “What a vile, pitiful creature you are,” Stiles said. He stopped in front of Apollo, reached out, and grabbed his arm. He watched for a second to make sure that Apollo's wounds started to close. “Every time you see the moon, I hope it hurts. Every time you hear a wolf howl, I hope you remember that I have someone better than you. Every time you look at yourself, I hope you remember that even magic couldn't fix how pathetic you are. I hope you remember, that all this killing you've done, making yourself disgusting, was pointless. Just. Like. You.” Stiles yanked his hand away from Apollo, wiping it on the side of his jeans. Then he turned around and started into the darkness.

 

            “You’ll never get back!” Apollo screamed. “No one else can help you out of here! This is the place of the dead, Hecate! You’re trapped here!”

 

            “That’s fine,” Stiles shouted back, over his shoulder. “At least if I start walking, I won’t have to listen to you bitch at me anymore!” Apollo started yelling again, but the further Stiles walked, the harder it got to hear him. So, instead, he started to hum and continued away into the nothingness.

 

 

*********

 

            They had been in the carnival almost a full 24 from the perspective of the waiting pack member, night was approaching again as they organised everyone. The pack was worried about Stiles, but there were too many people there to just sit around and wait for him. There were almost 200 creatures that had been trapped in the carnival, and they had homes across the country to return too. Or at least, some of them did. Other had nothing left, no pack or coven, or anything to go back to. Derek called his mother and she called the packs that had lost members. It took time and multiple trips, but slowly everyone returned to the Hale compound. Derek was the last to leave, stubbornly standing in the parking lot and praying for Stiles to appear. “He can get in touch when he gets back,” Erica said softly.

 

            “I want to be here for him, the second he's back,” Derek answered.

 

            “We don't know how long that's going to take,” Erica said. “Times different in there… it could take him minutes, but hours for us. Or… you know, longer. Come home and sleep. We'll all be ready to go as soon as we hear from him.” Derek turned to look at her standing in front of Stiles' jeep. She looked so mature in that moment, nothing like the scared teenage girl that had been turned in high school. She looked so much like the amazing mother she was going to be; strong and protective, and endlessly supportive.

 

            “Okay,” he said. Boyd drove the Jeep back to the Hale compound, Derek sitting in the back, staring out the window. Derek hesitated when he climbed back out of the jeep when they got home. There was so much commotion in the compound. There was crying, shouting, and rejoicing that Derek had never heard before. There were so many people on cell phones, calling family who had lost track of them. There were families curled together, pups running around playing, and Derek could smell that someone was cooking. He caught Boyd before he could disappear into the crowds, and tugged him around to the side of the Jeep.

 

            “Thanks,” Derek said to Boyd.

 

            “For what?”

 

            “Reminding me how mistakes work,” he said.

 

            “No problem,” Boyd said smiling a little. “I'm sure you'd do the same.”

 

            “If I ever get the opportunity, I promise.” Derek let him go back to Erica, knowing that Boyd didn't want to be away from her after his nightmare. He wanted to keep a hand touching her, to remind him that she was still alive. Derek was sure that Boyd's mother and sister would be over soon as well. They would come to join in the celebration and to comfort Boyd, even if they didn't know the reason why. It was Deaton that pulled Derek away, into the silence of the house, a few minutes later.

 

            “He won’t be able to come back,” he said closing the door to Talia’s office.

 

            “What do you mean?” Derek asked.

 

            “It takes a lot of power to get in and out of another dimension; Apollo needed Artemis to open the portal they used,” Deaton explained.

 

            “He’ll find someone to help him,” Derek said, and he believed it.

 

            “He might, but I don’t think you should get your hopes up abo—”

 

            “No,” Derek snapped, making Deaton stop. Derek shifted slowly; moving his weight from one leg to both of them and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that it made him look intimidating, and in this moment, it wanted to. “I think it’s time you admitted to yourself, that Stiles is stronger and smarter than you expected him to be. You underestimated him, ignored him, and it almost destroyed the pack. So, respectfully Deaton, I’m going to believe that he’s coming back. Even if it takes a while to happen, he’s going to figure it out. So, you can stop whatever warnings you have for me because I’m not going to listen to them this time.” Deaton rarely reacted to things, but now he looked shocked and Derek could see his body tense.

 

            “Very well,” Deaton answered after a minute.

 

            “I’m going to go help with organising if you’ll excuse me,” Derek said. He didn’t wait for Deaton to answer him, just pushed past him, yanked open the office door, and hurried off into the house.

 

They spent weeks searching for people's families, paying for plane tickets when people couldn’t afford them, and offering a home and a family to those who had nowhere else to go. Derek threw himself into helping them, made it his mission to make it as easy for everyone as possible. By the end of it all, the staff at three different airports knew Derek by voice, and a hundred new people had his cell phone number. “You’re too kind,” Gabi said to him, as he stood with her and the two remaining members of her coven.

 

            “It’s nothing, I just want you to get home safely,” Derek said.

 

            “Scotland isn’t our home,” another girl, Virginia, said. “But you still bought us tickets to go there.”

 

            “Everyone deserves to have a home; you lost yours, so it makes sense to find a new one.”

 

            “Like I said, you’re too kind, Derek,” Gabi said. She smiled widely at him, and then reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.

 

            “Call or text when you land, alright?” Derek said once she had let go of him.

 

            “Okay, dad,” the last girl, Alycia, said. She grinned at him, her eyes scrunching closed when she did. Derek liked her, she reminded him of his sisters, and part of him was sorry to see her leaving.

           

            “You’re always welcome back if you don’t like it there,” Derek said, even though he had said it before.

 

            “We’ll call and keep you up to date,” Virginia said and then took her turn to hug Derek. Alycia hugged him last and held on tighter than the other two had.

 

            “You’ll see him again,” she whispered, and then pulled away. Then, she grabbed her bag and was darting off toward check-in. The other two followed, waving goodbye to Derek as they did. He waited until he couldn’t see them anymore, and then he made his way back to his car where Sam was waiting for him.

 

            “You don’t need to walk everyone to their plane, you know,” Sam said, as Derek got into the driver’s seat.

 

            “I know,” he answered.

 

            “But, I know they appreciate it,” Sam added. Derek pulled onto the main road running past the airport and started back to Beacon Hills. Sam had offered to come for the drive, so Derek wouldn’t be alone on the trip home. Derek thought it was more so that Sam didn’t have to be with the pack. No one talked about what Sam had done, but some members of the pack avoided Sam now. They would turn away from him and leave the room when he was there. It took more effort than Derek thought was possible, to not shout at people for doing it. But, he knew everyone was grieving, and scared, and dealing with things in different ways. So for now, Derek let them, but he made sure that Sam knew he didn’t care.

 

            Matthew’s death still didn’t feel real to Derek, and some days he almost forgot about it. He had moved out of the pack house for a few years and then went to university away from home. It was normal for his dad not to always be around him, but it didn’t stop the ache that came when he thought about it. It the bitter anger for Apollo that flooded his chest. When he looked at Sam, he didn’t see a murderer or a monster of any kind. All he saw was his big brother, looking tired and scared. So, Derek didn’t let himself think about it because he needed to make sure everyone was okay.

 

            The pack rarely cooked now, either being too busy or they're being just too many people. So, when Derek and Sam got back home, they weren’t surprised to find pizza for dinner again. Sam made his way to their mother, the two seeming to have become closer to everything that had happened. Derek planned to take his food and disappear to his own room for a while, to breath and maybe read a little, but things rarely went the way Derek planned. He got his food and before he could go anywhere, Sana was grabbing at his shirt, tugging at him until he followed her out the back door and into the backyard.

 

            Most of the kids were out there, playing a little before being forced to their beds. Peter and Corrine were outside, cuddled together, watching the pups play. Corrine waved lazily at Derek, as he was dragged passed, but Peter ignored him. “Where are we going?” Derek finally asked, but Sana just shushed him. He decided to eat his pizza as they went until they were back at the tree house.

 

            “I need to talk to you,” she said sternly.

 

            “Okay,” he answered. She looked around them like she was checking to see if anyone was listening when she was satisfied she turned back to him. The look of determination on her face melted away, and suddenly she looked like she was going to start crying. “What’s wrong?”

 

            “Stiles never came back, its been two months!” she said. “He said he promised everyone would come back.” Derek felt his chest tighten, and tears suddenly burn at his own eyes. He hadn’t been letting himself think about Stiles, he didn’t want to go down that path right now. He hadn’t realised that there might be other members of the pack who missed him. Derek sunk down to his knees, putting his paper plate of pizza on the ground next to him.

 

            “Stiles is going to come back someday, he’s just in another place right now,” Derek said. He reached out and pulled Sana towards him, letting her wrap her arms around him.

 

            “Can’t we go find him?” she asked. “We can use more of my hair,” she added. Derek let out a long breath and held her tighter.

 

            “That won’t help this time,” he mumbled. “No one else knows how to do that kind of magic.”

 

            “But he promised,” Sana said, “even if he was dead, he promised.”

 

           “I’m sorry, Sana, there’s nothing we can do right now,” Derek answered. Sana jerked away from him suddenly, looking up at his face with a look of shock on her own.

 

            “I didn’t mean to make you cry!” she said, but Derek just shook his head at her.

 

            “I miss Stiles a lot too,” Derek said, wiping the tears that had started to run down his face away.

 

            “I didn’t know you cried,” she said and then she was hugging him again. Derek sat with her until they both finished crying, long after his food was cold and Sana’s bedtime had come and gone. Sana had curled up against Derek, sitting on his lap, and falling asleep before he was calmed down. He got up and carried her home when he heard Laura calling for her.

 

            “Sana’s wanted to talk to you for days,” Laura said quietly when Derek handed Sana to her.

 

            “She wanted to know where Stiles was,” Derek answered.

 

            “Oh,” Laura said shifted Sana in her arms and holding her closer. “I’m sorry…”

 

            “He’ll be back,” Derek answered.

 

            “I know,” Laura said. “But, I’m sorry you have to wait for him now.” She turned and headed back into the house, Derek followed Laura, and once he was inside he went to find Sam again. Derek still slept in Sam’s room, turned into a wolf and curled on the edge of his bed, most night. No one commented on it, and Derek figured in a few weeks it would stop, but for now they needed it. In the morning, Derek would pull Sam downstairs, make sure he ate and send him off to shower and shave. The next morning was no different, but Sam had offered to help Derek with the construction of his apartment building. With new pack members and people who had declined the offer to become pack officially, but still decided to stay in Beacon Hills, Derek had figured he needed to get the building done as quickly as possible. It would be easier for people to just move in there.

 

            Talia made them breakfast, she still looked tired and sad, but she was doing better now. She had stepped back into the role of Alpha, and Derek was happy for it. They ate in silence and left before anyone else came to the kitchen. When they arrived at the apartment building, there were already construction workers milling around. There were people gutting apartments, and others installing the furnishings. Currently, there was only one suite in the whole building that was finished. The penthouse had been gutting and finished as a test for the rest of the building. To make sure the appliances and paint had looked good. Sam hadn’t been in the suite yet, but when Derek had mentioned it being finished. It was the first time he had shown real interest in something, so Derek had jumped at the opportunity to show Sam.

 

Sam and Derek took the freight elevator to the top floor, having decided to keep the old thing as a historical piece. Derek had put the original occupants of the building up in hotel rooms until their suites were finished, and they were all scheduled to be finished in the next week or so. Sam yanked open the front, before stepping into the suite. It was still sparsely decorated, but it was painted warm colours giving a wall of built-in shelves and a new kitchen. Sam whistled low, letting it echo around the space. “It’s amazing,” he said.

 

“I like it as a temporary until I can get my own house built in the compound,” Derek said. Sam nodded his head and wandered off to check out the bathrooms and bedrooms. Derek watched Sam as he went, watching the way his shoulders relaxed and his worry seemed to temporarily leave. Sam finally finished his exploration and stopped in front of the large floor to ceiling windows along one of the walls.

 

            “It’s really amazing, seriously, Der,” he said as he stared out over the preserve. Derek looked at his brother’s face for a moment and then turned to look out the windows.

 

            “Do you want it?” Derek asked.

 

            “What?” Sam asked, turning to look at him.

 

            “Do you want it?” Derek said again. “You look… you look more relaxed here, and it’s probably because the whole pack isn’t staring you down all day. I can stay at mum’s place until I get my house built… maybe it’s time you finally moved out?” Sam stared at him for a long time, before he turned away and looked back out the window. Finally, he let out a long breath and nodded his head.

 

            “I’d love it, Derek,” he answered. “But… you could live here too. Until your place is built… you know just in case…” Sam trailed off, scrubbing at his neck with his hand, leaving the _‘I hurt myself’_ unsaid between them.

 

            “Yeah,” Derek answered. “Shouldn’t be too bad sharing a place with you again.”

 

            “And, when Stiles gets back we can figure out what to do then,” Sam said. Derek felt tears again, and a burn behind his nose. He sniffed and then rubbed his nose quickly, before turning to Sam.

 

            “Well, let’s go see what needs to be organised, and what work needs to be done.”

 

            “Lead the way,” Sam said and followed Derek out of the loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. 
> 
> Well, for now anyway. I do plan on writing more. But, I felt like this story had run its course, and it's time to move on. Of course, I need to come up with more for another story to happen. So, I'll see where it goes! Let me know what you think! Even if you don't like it, but if you could let me know what you don't like, that's super helpful for me in the long run.
> 
> As always, if you have anything you wanna see in this AU let me know! You can also message me on Tumblr, ihaveasoftspotforsatan.tumblr.com


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